


Epiphanies in Avalon Heights

by CKBookish



Series: Hard Truths and Other Realities [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Dick Grayson cleans up BPD, Dick Grayson is a good bro, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is a good brother, Mystery, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Tags to be added, or at least this is the journey to him becoming one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 66,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: There was an odd commotion in the bullpen.  Dick knew what it was.  They were arresting Tom.  IA was arresting him.  Dick clasped his hands together in his lap to stop them from shaking.  He had known what was going to happen.  As soon as he made the report it he knew it was over.Dick works to balance is life as Nightwing and Police Officer Grayson.  It would be a lot easier if his Training Officers would stop committing crimes.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson and Wally West
Series: Hard Truths and Other Realities [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752508
Comments: 1209
Kudos: 868





	1. Breaking the Stalemate

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Back!!!! I have no idea how long this one will be. I'm think between three and five chapters, but then I might ... you know... get an idea, then who knows. 
> 
> As always. I love to hear from you! sorry to spam you with fics today. It was just a double feature kind of day.

If I tug this thread will all my defences come undone?

If I lose this stone will all my enemies find a way in?

But the only way up is through.

So through I must walk

* * *

Sergeant Hess stood blocking his view. That was fine. Dick didn’t need to see. He didn’t really want to. He had been riding with Tom for four months. It seemed both incredibly long and short all at once. They had joked, shouted at each other and been in tight scraps together. None of that made it any easier, but Dick couldn’t stand by and not do anything. If there was one crime that would irrationally affect him it was  _ racketeering _ . 

There was an odd commotion in the bullpen. Dick knew what it was. They were arresting Tom. IA was arresting him. Dick clasped his hands together in his lap to stop them from shaking. He had known what was going to happen. As soon as he made the report it he knew it was over. 

Dick felt sick. He hadn’t thought it would be this… upsetting. Tom was dirty.  _ He’s dirty _ . But that didn’t stop it from hurting, just a bit. It was never easy. As Nightwing he had teammates —partners— betray him before, but this felt different. This wasn’t  _ impersonal _ , there was no mask. Curry had looked into his eyes. He hadn’t known Richard Grayson or Nightwing. He had known Dick. 

The sound was cut off sharply as Sergeant Hess closed the door of his office with a click. Dick felt his body relax slightly as the noise dissipated. He still couldn’t see into the bullpen. He wondered if the officers were huddled together or if they were too fearful of being overheard by IA. 

“Grayson?”

Dick’s head snapped up. “Yeah, Sarge?”

“You… you did the right thing. It’s not going to be easy. This isn’t the city for straight laces, but you did the right thing. Redhorn might not like it, but the Captain and I have you back. Okay?” Hess wasn’t a big man, not compared to men Dick had fought next to, but he was a force to recon with. 

Redhorn was a hurtle he wasn’t ready to face alone--not as Dick Grayson at least. Nightwing could rip him in half-- but Dick was still working on finding what he was willing to do as himself. It was an odd line to walk, vigilante and police officer. One outside the law fighting for justice and the other working within to clean house. It seemed like a simple plan-- now though-- Dick wondered if he could balance it. 

“I appreciate that sir.” And he did. Dick hadn’t known—couldn’t have predicted how hard this was going to be. But this was what he had signed on to. He was here to clean up the department, it just so happened he started with his own training officer. 

“You're going to be off for the next couple days. It’s just until IA finishes verifying your statement.”

Dick nodded, he wanted this to stick. He would do everything by the book. “Sir, If you need me to stick around for--”

“No. Dick, you need to go home. Go back to Gotham see the folks. Just let this cool down.” 

Dick stilled. Hess must not have ever read his file. “It’s fine. I’ve not got any-- I’m okay to stay really.”

Hess sighed. “Look I didn’t tell you this, but IA isn’t sending you home. I am. Okay. You don’t want to be here for a couple days. Let the dust settle.”

Dick bit his lip. “I thought my statement was confidential.”

“It is.” Hess clapped him on the shoulder and sat down on the edge of his desk. “Having you ‘investigated,’” Hess moved his hands to make air quotes, “will keep the others off your back. Keep  _ you  _ protected. Grayson, Redhorn has ears everywhere you need to be careful who you piss off.” 

“What do you mean?”

Hess looked at him sadly. “Look Grayson, I like you okay. So I’m gonna give it to you straight.”

Dick shifted uncomfortably, his belt and equipment dug into his hip.

“You’ve just kicked a hornet’s nest. Cap and I have been looking at this for years. The department is a tangled web of three networks. Redhorn has the biggest hold over the BPD, but the Twins have a good hold over some beat cops and maybe some of vice, and there are a couple others who have their hat in the ring too.”

Dick schooled his face into a slightly puzzled expression. He knew all of this. 

“Tom was just-- well as far as Cap and I are aware he wasn’t linked to any of the networks. Which is good for you. You start pulling at a piece of web... and well you don’t know what spider is going to come for you. Do you follow?”

“Yeah, but your saying I didn’t pull the web.” Dick’s mind was spinning.

“No, but you’ve made everyone wonder, just who’s making a move. Is it Redhorn, the Twins this Nightwing that’s shown up over the last few months? This is going to make everyone close ranks.”

“So am I in danger?” Dick narrowed his eyes.

“Not if we handle this right.” Hess said slowly. “Go home, let me run you through IA as if it was an outside tip.  _ Let me  _ handle this.”

Dick sucked in his bottom lip thinking. He had prepared for this. He knew that it would happen. But suddenly he missed his mask. He missed the separation it gave him from this world. Maybe Bruce had--  _ No _ . Dick clenched his fist digging his nails into his palm. Bruce. Batman. Didn’t know anything. That had been a hellish conversation. 

If Dick had thought Bruce’s reaction to Nightwing was bad, then his reaction to Dick joining BPD was  _ something  _ else entirely. 

* * *

“Clark, I have a shift on Saturday. I can’t come by until maybe Tuesday.” Dick spun around in Superman’s chair on Watchtower as Clark floated above him dusting the corners of the ceiling. 

“That’s fine. Lois just misses you. How is your Training Officer? Do you like him?”

“I don’t know.” Dick shrugged. “I’ve only just been assigned to him. I swear he acts like the academy didn’t teach me anything--not that I learned anything there.” Dick laughed and pushed off from the meeting table to spin faster.

“Dick you’ve literally been working in law enforcement since you were  _ nine _ . I don’t think that you can fairly judge the Police Academy.”

“Well, I  _ was  _ top of the class.” Dick was too focused on spinning to see him.

Clark however, dropped his feather duster. “Bruce.”

Dick’s heart lurched. He stuck out a leg, catching the edge of the table bringing his spinning to an abrupt halt. He forced back a wince as his shin smacked the wood hard. 

“What brings you up here? I thought you weren’t on duty until Thursday.” Clark asked evenly.

Dick almost laughed.  _ Thought _ . Yeah right. Clark kept a schedule pinned to the refrigerator, noting when Bruce would or wouldn’t be at Watchtower-- for Dick of course. But he never said anything about it to him. He simply left it where Dick would see. Nightwing planned his visits accordingly. 

“What class?” Batman looked as if he was swaying slightly. But Dick chalked that up to the fact the room was still spinning from his time pretending to be a top. “The police academy?”

Bruce was looking at him, his mouth slightly agape. Dick just stared at him in horror.

“You're in the police?” He asked again when Dick didn’t respond.

“Errr…” Dick didn’t know what to say. He’d only spoken with Batman a handful of times in the past nine months. All of them had been case related and filled with an undefinable tension. “I… well.”

Clark landed lightly between them. “Bruce, did you need something?” 

to anyone else Clark would have sounded jovial but Dick and Bruce both knew that he was being rather cold towards the man. 

“What… Di--Nightwing. Are you going undercover?” He pushed past Clark so that he could see Dick again. Bruce sounded almost breathless. His whole body was shaking.

“Umm. No.” Dick felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. “I--”

Clark interrupted after a quick glance a Dick. “He graduated last week. Top of the Bludhaven Police Academy.”

Bruce it turned out was swaying. Because Clark suddenly darted forward, gripping one of the Dark Knight’s arms. 

“Get off!” Bruce spat through gritted teeth, shaking his arm out of Superman’s grip. 

Clark recoiled as if burned. “Bruce, he’s doing--”

Bruce turned away from Clark, his eyes boring into Dick’s. “Police? You  _ really  _ joined the police?”

Suddenly Dick felt all too aware of the fact he was still curled up in Superman’s chair. He scrambled to stand. 

“Yeah. I did.” Dick hoped his voice came out evenly. He hated how much he wanted to hide. How much he wanted to apologize.  _ No _ .  _ This was what he wanted to do _ . He wanted to show Bruce how much he had lost when he fired Robin. He wanted to do better than Batman ever could. He would fight from the inside and out, in a way that Batman never had.

Batman stood mouth flapping as if he was fighting to say something. 

“Bruce, he’s really good.” Clark said softly.

Batman’s mouth snapped shut, and he turned to glare at Clark. Whatever silent conversation they seemed to be having, Dick could only guess. After a moment, Bruce spun on his heels and with the swish of a cape, he was gone. Dick sank back into Clark’s chair and watched him go.  _ Yeah  _ that was worse than he imagined. Batman might have begun to acknowledge Nightwing, but now… Dick  _ hated  _ how devastated he felt. He hated that one look from Bruce made his insides feel like they had been scoped out and thrown in a blender. 

“Dick?” Clark asked gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah. yeah… I’m just--” Dick leaned back, closed his eyes and swore. 

“He’ll get used to the idea, it was just a sho--”

“Don’t.” Dick couldn’t not today. “Please don’t, Clark.” 

“Okay...” Clark must have moved, his voice was much closer than before. 

Dick couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. 

“Bring your laundry with you on Tuesday, will you? Lois is constantly asking if you have clean clothes. I swear she thinks I can tell all the way from Metropolis if you’ve done your laundry.”

* * *

“Grayson, you got all that?” Hess snapped his fingers in front of Dick’s face with a frown.

“Huh? Yeah.” Dick smirked sheepishly. “Go home lay low. Got it.”

“Don’t worry just get out of here for a couple days.” Hess moved away from him towards the door. 

“Sarge?” Dick stood up adjusting his belt. “Thank you… for everything.” Dick didn’t know what he would do if Hess and the Captain decided to throw him to the dogs. But then Dick always seemed to find allies in even the most unlikely places. 

“No problem. It’s my job to look out for you, Rookie.” Hess pushed the door open and the sounds of the bullpen flooded the room. 

Dick walked slowly to the locker room. His head was spinning still. He had taken down a dirty cop, not as Robin or Nightwing, but as  _ himself _ . It was odd. It felt liberating. Sure he couldn’t crow about it, but he didn’t have a mask to sever him from his work. He changed hurriedly, packed his belt safely in a lock case and dashed to his car. 

With his gun and gear locked safely in the glove-box he pulled out his cell. 

Lois answered on the third ring. “Lane speaking.”

Dick could hear the click clack of keys as she continued to type. “Hey. I umm have a couple days off ....” Dick suddenly wasn’t sure why he had called. 

“Dick?” Lois stopped typing. “I thought you weren’t off until Thursday/Friday this week? Why the shift change?”

“Oh um… well-- off the record--” Dick smirked, as Lois huffed into the phone. “I turned in a dirty cop so I am laying low for a couple days. But --on the record-- I’m under investigation from IA because my TO was anonymously proven to be involved in racketeering.”

Lois whistled. “That is some heavy stuff. Can you come for dinner then? I was thinking of ordering Italian.”

Dick turned the key in the ignition. “Um, I was going to be pretty busy after  _ sunset  _ tonight.” Dick was still trying to figure out how much he could allow himself to say on an open line. He always had a nagging voice at the back of his mind-- that sounded just like Bruce-- telling him he needed to never say anything incriminating on an unsecured line. Wally called it his batparanoia. 

“Clark can drop by and get you if that helps. He’s not working tonight.” Lois said quickly. “He’ll drop you back too.”

“I don’t--”

“Dick, I’ve said it a hundred times and I’ll say it again. You are not inconveniencing us. We like having you. Honest.” Lois was typing again. “Look I’ve got to submit in an hour, so Clark will pick you up then and we’ll eat.” She hung up before he could protest. 

Dick found himself sitting in his apartment with the window open waiting for Clark. He felt antsy. He wanted company but he also was itching to call and cancel. Maybe it was that he wanted  _ different  _ company. He wanted to be around someone who wasn’t even an option. As much as he loved Clark and Lois, there were somethings he didn’t know how to explain to them. He didn’t know how to tell them about this  _ anger  _ he felt. He knew Clark would be scared if he told him. He thought maybe Lois would listen, but she wouldn’t understand it. 

Dick could call Wally or Kory and they would listen too. But there was something he wanted that he knew they couldn’t give. He wanted someone who shared this same pain to tell him he was justified-- that he was allowed to be this angry. He wanted  _ Bruce _ . Dick pulled out his phone and scrolled down to ‘B’. His thumb hovered over the number.

A sharp rapping on his window caused Dick to drop his phone. “Dick, you here?”

Dick stood up, his ears turning red. “Hey, Clark. How was the flight over?”

Clark slumped dramatically on Dick’s sofa, leaning against him. “Just terrible, I almost flew into a flock of geese. They chased me half a mile after.” Clark peaked over at Dick after a long silence. “What’s wrong kiddo? I mean... that was funny.”

“I turned my TO in today.” 

Clark sat up faster than Dick’s eyes could follow. “What? What did he do?”

“He was…” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “He was making people pay him for answering calls.”

Clark tilted his head in confusion. “So...He was dirty?”

“Yeah. I noticed a couple of months ago when we answered a domestic, the wife looked really shifty around Curry. Turns out he had a reputation on our beat. He would only book people if you paid him. I finally got it caught on my body cam last week. Sarge is making me take a couple days off now. Just ‘til the heat dies down.” Dick glanced at Clark wondering if he would get it. How  _ sick  _ it made him feel. How he wanted nothing more than to fling himself into a bloody fist fight. 

“Wow. I can’t believe he did that. Good for you turning him in.” Clark’s smile was too bright. 

Dick blinked and forced his face into a natural expression. “Yeah.” he couldn’t help the upsetting turn his stomach made. “Yeah.”

Clark slapped his knees and stood up. “Should we get going?” 

Dick glanced down at his phone still lying on the floor. Snatching it up he followed Clark over to the window. “Sure. Italian sounds good.”


	2. In Between Cloud Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said like five chapters??? Well I had ideas. So we are just going to go on a wild ride. 
> 
> As always, I LOVE to hear from you all. It makes my day. Also It's Jason's birthday, so enjoy his pov for part of the chapter!

Caught in the calm eye,

waves of rain and storm that hides the truth.

There’s no tossing and turning, 

just the dread that it will all hit me

soon

* * *

Dick wasn’t sure why he felt nervous. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever walked into a den of lions before. He was even armed. Dick glanced down at his utility belt with a frown. He was glad he’d ditched utility belts when he designed his Nightwing suit, but he really missed his Robin belt now that he had to deal with the BPD’s standard issue gear. He appreciated all the sleek technology that Lucius Fox helped Bruce develop over the years. 

“Grayson!” Officer Cole called as he entered the briefing room for morning roll call.

Dick pinned a smile on his face and turned to join him. “Morning! How’s it been without me to bale you out of doing real work?”

Cole snorted. “They cleared you then?”

Dick felt his heart drop but kept his smile fixed in place, “Yeah. I’m back on duty and everything.” 

Cole rolled his eyes. “No kidding. But for real. That was hairy-- Tom getting pinched liked that. I couldn’t believe it.”

Dick’s mind was going a mile a minute. Was Cole fishing or was he just being friendly? There were only two people he knew he could trust in the department. Hess and the Captain. Maybe this evening he would look into Officer Cole. Just to know-- just to see what beast pulled the strings-- _if_ there was one. 

“Yeah, I know it was a surprise.” Dick said evenly. “But I didn’t mind the couple days off. Honestly, I need to catch up on the soaps.” 

Cole and several other officers chortled with laughter. 

“Grayson! This isn’t the beauty parlor. Find a seat.” Sergeant Hess barked from the front of the room.

“Sorry, Sarge.” Dick stood up from the table he had been perched on and shuffled over to the front of the briefing room. Rookies were expected to sit up front, where it was easier for the Sergeant to pick on them. “Since you’re so social, Grayson, why don’t you tell us what a street threat level is?”

Dick froze halfway between sitting and standing. “That means there is suspected gang activity increase due to a dispute between rival gangs, sir.”

“And what is the response that an officer should have if they receive this code?”

Dick glanced at the other rookies sitting next to him. “Sir?”

“Yes, Grayson, I’m still talking to you.”

“Well, you should prepare by wearing your chest plates, as well as having deescalation go plans in case of an incident.” Dick said, slowly sinking all the way into his chair. “You should also never run solo during a day above yellow. Partner work is key to dealing with hostile situations that are already evolved.”

Hess nodded and turned back to the room. “Today is Code Orange . The night shift received intelligence that the Twins made a move on Betty Hills.”

Collective groans filled the room. 

“I know I know. But we need to be extra vigilant today. Betty Hills has three schools so I want extra officers posted on campuses today. Check with students. We want people to feel safe. _That’s_ the job.” Hess eyed everyone with pursed lips. 

Dick sucked his bottom lip in thought. Was Hess worried about another cop in the room not doing their job. Maybe it was because he had had three days off, where he did little but work on Nightwing cases, but he was feeling apprehensive coming back. It felt oddly like undercover work, except he had no bail out plans, no back up, and no cover to hide behind. 

“Grayson.” Hess turned towards him with a smirk.

“Yes, sir?” Dick smiled lightly. 

“You’re getting a new TO today. I want you to meet Officer Aaron Leoni. Leoni’s joining us from the 51st. He will be taking over the next 7 months of your probationary period.”

Dick turned in search of his new partner and boss. Aaron Leoni stood at the back of the briefing room, leaning against the wall, his arm raised slightly in greeting. Leoni looked oddly bored with the proceedings, as if he was assigned a new rookie every day. Perhaps he was-- he was from station 51 after all. 51 was one of the more difficult precincts to work. It wasn’t near what 72 dealt with, but it still had a high rate of gang activity. Dick had spent a lot of time in Avalon Heights as Nightwing stamping out drug trafficking and arms dealing. 

Dick smiled at Leoni and nodded his greeting. 

“Leoni, I want you and Grayson to run your beat before hunkering down as extra security for the courthouse. That way you get the lay of the area. We need more officers present for the Marco trial this afternoon. It’s all outlined on your shift schedule.”

“Sure thing, Sarge.” Leoni said smoothly. “I look forward to it. I’m glad to be able to come and fill the void.”

Dick fought to keep his expression pleasant. There was something odd about the way Leoni spoke. Dick didn’t quite place it. But it felt familiar. Dick pushed it down. It was his first day. He needed to give Leoni a chance he might even like him. Regardless, Dick would have to work with him for the rest of his probationary months on the force. 

* * *

Jason woke with a slight headache. He lay in bed with his pillow over his face, trying-- and failing to ignore Ace licking his arm. “Alright, alright I’m up!” 

Jason rolled over and sat up pushing the dog back.

“Jay?” Bruce poked his head in the room just as Ace flopped down knocking a stack of books off the edge of Jason’s bed with a crash. 

Jason sat up quickly, eyes wide. “Sorry it was just books.”

Bruce chucked and stepped into the room. “I can live with that then.” 

He bent down and plucked one of the larger books off of the floor where it had fallen. 

“I was…” Jason blushed when Bruce raised a single eyebrow. 

“Bit of light reading, huh?” Bruce turned the book so Jason could see the cover. 

He could feel the heat creep up his face. “She’s cool, okay?” Jason reached forward and snatched the book from Bruce’s hands. “And she’s been around for like centuries or something. So her biography is really long.”

Bruce chucked. “You know I’ve been thinking it’s about time I take you up to Watchtower. You could meet the team.”

Jason’s head snapped up so fast he felt dizzy. “Really? You mean I could actually meet Wonder Woman?”

Bruce snorted. “Well, if she is there that day, I don’t see why not. We’ll pop in on Wednesday if you don’t have too much homework.” 

Jason was out of bed faster then if he had had cold water dumped on him. Bruce grunted as Jason collided with him. 

“Thank you! I’ll never ask for anything ever again. This is so cool!” 

“I seriously doubt that.” Bruce squeezed Jason once before letting him leap back in excitement. “I mean you’ll probably ask to go up a second time too.”

Jason felt like a whirlwind as he threw his pajamas on the floor and pulled on his school shirt. “Well, I might not ask you know, B. I might just start showing up.”

Bruce sighed and plucked Jason’s abandoned pajamas off the floor and folded them. “That sounds about right. Alfred has breakfast downstairs. Come down once you're dressed. Yeah?” 

Jason waved his comb in agreement and watched Bruce slip out the door in his mirror. _Watchtower._ Jason had been itching to go since Bruce first told him about it. _A secret headquarters in space!_ He had even tried asking Dick about it a couple of times. Well-- only once. But that conversation had ended pretty quickly. Dick didn’t like to talk much about anything Batman related. Jason had been invited to the Nest, Titans Tower and seen several cool gadgets that Nightwing was working on. But a single mention of Bruce, Batman, Watchtower or the Justice League and Dick clammed up faster than a villain in a gag. 

Which really sucked. Jason had so many things he wanted to talk to Dick about but it seemed like he had to juggle fire around him. One miss step and Dick would either snap or shut down. Jason hadn’t known him long, but he could tell this was a new trait for him. He’d made the mistake of asking if Bruce had designed the security program at Titan’s Tower, and everyone’s reaction to Dick completely clamming up had proved it. 

Then there were other times when Jason would ask Dick about how to fix his landings or how to balance on a slippery surface and he would light up. Jason knew one thing for certain, being Dick’s brother was confusing. 

Jason tapped his comb on the bathroom counter nervously. He wanted to tell Dick he was going to Watchtower. He wanted to tell _someone_. Anyone. But Dick was the only one who knew. Jason frowned. Dick was the only one who got what it was like to be Robin, the only one who understood what it was like to be Bruce’s kid. Maybe that was why he liked him so much. Dick got things that Jason didn’t even know how to explain. 

Throwing his comb down-- bed head forgotten-- Jason stomped back to his bed and yanked his phone off the charger cord. 

“Hey.” Jason typed and waited for the delivered and read check marks to appear. 

“Sup?”

Jason rolled his eyes. He could almost hear Dick popping the p. 

“B is letting me go to the clubhouse on Wednesday.” Jason knew Bruce had secured his phone, but Dick wasn’t about to touch any of Batman’s tech, so Jason had no clue if Dick had a safe line to talk over. Jason looked at the typed message for a long time trying to decide if it was safe to send. After about seven minutes weighting the pros and cons of it, he hit send.

Jason stared at his phone waiting for the tell tell typing bubble. It _had_ been delivered. Jason tossed his phone on his bed and finished grabbing all of his stuff. On the way to the kitchen he checked it again. No new messages. 

He finished his eggs and orange juice. No new message. Jason opened the text again. It had been read the check was green. Suddenly, breakfast seemed to disagree with him. 

He waited for another five minutes, before giving up on a response. Dick was busy. He was a cop. He needed to pay attention to his shift. Maybe there was a bust or an arrest he was in the middle of. Jason refused to let the fact he had been left on read get to him. Trying to be friends with Dick was more confusing than Bruce’s like of spinach. Dick would flit from one extreme to another. One minute he would act like Jason was the coolest person in the world. He would buy him ice cream and listen to him talk, and then the next it was like he was trying to run as far away from Jason as possible. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have told him about Watchtower at all. 

* * *

Dick hit the ground hard. All of his breath went out of him in a huff. He could hear Leoni shouting at the perp, but Dick couldn’t focus on that. Right now he was much too busy focusing on the knife inches from his chest. He pulled his left knee up into an impossible position and pushed the man’s legs out from on top of him. His eyes bulged as he was thrown off balance. Dick rolled out from under him and kicked the blade out of his hands. Leoni leapt on top of him. Pulling the man’s thick arms back and into handcuffs

Dick stood hunched over panting as Leoni began the long list of the man’s rights. Dick _hated_ orange days. Everyone was just more restless. A simple, beat run had taken three hours to complete and they had run into several petty thefts. 

“Rookie, you good?” Leoni glanced over at Dick looking for any signs of blood.

“Yeah.” Dick waved his hand dismissively. “Just catching my breath.” 

Leoni laughed as he pulled the perp up to stand now that he was handcuffed. “Good. I don’t want the Sergeant gunning for me for losing my Rookie on my first shift at 72.”

Dick grinned back at him. “Well we can’t have that.” He looked down, mock examining himself for injuries. “You know I might—“

“Rookie?” Leoni paused in rattling off the Miranda rights to the man now sat in the back of their shop, and swung about to look at Dick.

Dick leaned down and plucked his cellphone from the ground. The screen was completely smashed. Streaks of green and silver ran underneath the webs of broken glass. “Broke my phone.”

Leoni stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment, then turned back to the man starting his rights over again. 

Dick flipped his phone over in his hand. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was tackled. Dick bit his lip he really couldn’t afford to fix it, let alone a new phone all together. Dick slipped the broken phone in his pocket once again, and resolved to call Jason from the station when they booked the guy. 

Once they finished booking the man-- assaulting an officer with a deadly weapon, and petty theft-- Leoni pulled Dick aside. “Look, out there you can’t just go off on your own like that.”

Dick frowned. “How so?”

“You ran in without your weapon drawn and ready, you didn’t wait for my go ahead, and after you had been in an altercation with a perp you didn’t do a proper physical check in. halfway through reading his rights, you made me think you were injured-- only to have broken your cell. Not only did I have to read his right to him twice, but I had to worry about you hiding injuries on me.”

Dick bit the inside of his lip. One thing that he still wasn’t used to was being treated like a newbie. Dick had spent his whole life doing this. It was hard to fall back into ‘learning’. “You’re right. Sorry It won’t happen again.” 

While Dick was glad to be rid of Tom-- due to his being dirty-- it was irritating to have to prove himself all over again to another training officer. Hopefully, Leoni would warm up to him soon.

“You know what, Boot? I think we’re going to run drills this afternoon-- just so you get the severity of your actions.”

Dick felt his jaw clench, but only nodded. Leoni turned on his heels and headed towards the bullpen. Dick sighed. He was in for a rough seven months. But Dick had been trained by Batman and no one was tougher to impress than him. Dick made his way to the patrol teams desks and sank into his shared desk’s chair. Snatching up the phone he punched in Jason’s number. 

“Yello?” Jason answered on the seventh ring.

“Hey, It’s me.” Dick pinched his nose. He could feel the beginnings of a headache forming. He must have hit his head when he was tackled. “I busted my phone. So I don’t know what you texted. The screen is completely messed up.”

Jason was silent for a beat too long for it to be comfortable. “It wasn’t anything important.”

Dick frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. I just--”

“Is it about extracurriculars?”

Dick could hear other students shuffling around in the hallways on the other side of the line. He could picture Jason pulling at the cuff of his uniform. 

“Well, yeah. I was just texting to say B, was going to take me to… er… the clubhouse this Wednesday.”

Dick felt his stomach drop. He hadn’t been allowed to Watchtower for over a year after it had been built. Jason had only been Robin for a few months. But then Jason already had so much more than Dick ever did. He had Bruce in a way Dick would never be able to claim. Dick felt twisted up inside-- as he often did when he spoke to Jason. On one hand, he liked Jason. He was funny, shy and was just a likable person. Then on the other, Jason had everything Dick had had ripped away from him. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have--”

“That great, Jason!” You’ll love it. There’s this great view from the B’s bedroom.” Dick hoped he didn’t sound as upset as he felt. Jason didn’t need that on him. He already seemed to question his worth to Bruce and if there was one thing Dick understood more than anything, it was feeling like you would never be good enough for the Dark Knight of Gotham. 

Dick heard a bell ring and the sounds of students rushing toward classrooms. 

“I’ve got to go. But text me when you get a new phone?”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you this Thursday.”

“Cool see ya then.” 

Dick sat with the phone still pressed to his ear as the dial tone replaced Jason’s voice. Dick let the slightly annoying sound wash over him as if it could chase away his spiraling thoughts. Why was he so tired all of the sudden? 

“Grayson!” 

Dick set the receiver back on it’s cradle and swiveled to face his TO. 

“Lets go, it’s still Orange and we’re needed at the courthouse for that trial in a couple hours.”

Dick stood quickly, and followed Leoni to their cruiser. Today was going to be a long day, for both Officer Grayson and Nightwing.


	3. Aide-mémoire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so It looks like I'm going to be updating this one every other week and then doing a batmanbingo on the other weeks. So hopefully that will allow me to really think out each chapter, because I keep being like ooohh what if I add more characters, or a side plot. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy and as always I love love love to hear from you!

Why do we seek that which we know?

The same hurdles and pains,

We run a never changing game.

I thought I was breaking the cycle but you are the same man--

You just have a different name.

* * *

Leoni pulled the shop to a smooth stop in the parking garage of the courthouse. “Rookie, what’s the procedure for officers entering the courthouse?”

Dick turned in his seat to face him amused this was the tenth pop quiz style question he had been asked during the drive.

“You get checked at the back entrance if you have evidence that you are transporting, if not you are okay to walk through, as long as you are on duty. Any off duty officers must sign in--like anyone else. If you are testifying then you also need to sign the registry on the court's agenda for the day.”

Leoni’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Yeah. Come on.”

Dick fought to keep a straight face. If this guy was so easily impressed by textbook answers then Dick would have an easy time yet. 

The courthouse was buzzing as they walked past the checkpoint. Dick felt himself slip into an automatic state of alert. Something felt off, about the place. Leoni seemed to feel it as well, for suddenly the gap between them was smaller. Dick blinked. Tom had never cared if Dick was near enough to grab if things went south. It was oddly touching that Leoni was taking his job as his Training Officer seriously, even if it was only his first day.

“Boot, I’m gonna see where they want us stationed. You want to check the court logs and see just when this case is?” 

“It’s at--” 

Leoni shot him a look. “Just double check. Courts can be unpredictable. Things change and they don’t always tell us about it.”

Dick nodded and started for the clerk’s desk. Sasha was on duty today. Dick added a slight skip to his step. He liked Sasha. She was nice. She wanted to be a defense attorney and had just finished her undergrad of pre-law. 

“Sasha, they got you here dealing with all us ugly mugs today?” Dick leaned against the partition, giving his best smile.

Sasha’s head snapped up. A grin quickly formed on her face when she locked eyes with him. “Officer Grayson, what brings you in today?”

“Oh I’m just here for some extra security. You got any idea when case...” Dick pretended to think for a moment, “3Y 27B is?”

“Let me look.” Sasha put her pen between her teeth and typed ferociously on the keyboard. Dick smiled politely, his eyes resumed sweeping the main hall as she pulled up the information for him.

“Looks like it’s in an hour and a half. Huh.” She spoke around her pin, frowning at the screen. 

“What?” Dick had to stop himself from hopping over the barrier to look at the computer himself, as he waited for her to respond.

“I just-- Well it’s only a pre-trial but it’s in one of the large halls. Hall 15.” Sasha continued typing. “There's not even a full schedule. Why would they meet in there?”

Dick pursed his lips slightly and shrugged. He didn’t care much where he was stationed, a small hall or a large one. But if it was odd then perhaps something else was going on. 

“Well, I better go tell my TO the room, but thank you so much for--”

Gunfire sounded somewhere behind him. 

Dick dropped to the ground as a mirror broke above the clerk’s desk. “Sasha, get down.”

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sasha duck down behind her desk. Satisfied that she was safe behind the barrier, he turned quickly looking for the source of the gun fire. 

The Courthouse was in chaos. Women and men were running deeper inside towards the court rooms and offices. Officers were all calling out over the radio. Their voices mixed together as they overlapped and cut out. Dick could feel his heart rate jump. He glanced around but Leoni wasn’t there. He had to still be checking with security in the back offices.

Dick sprang into action as another shot went off. This time Dick saw where it was coming from. Keeping low to the ground, Dick moved silently forward along the desk. A security guard was laying on the ground clutching his shoulder on the other side of the hall. Dick didn’t have time to move him. This needed to be handled quickly. The officer had at least fallen out of the line of fire. 

Dick watched as two men pushed through a set of turn stiles, guns held aloft. Dick was thinking too fast and too slow all at once. 

Were he Nightwing, he would just leap at them. He would spring over there and strike out. But he wasn’t Nightwing. He was Officer Grayson. Dick pulled his gun. 

“Drop your weapons. Get on the ground.” The cold metal seemed to weigh more in his hands than it had on his hip. 

One of the men whipped around to face him, firing as he turned. Dick dove behind a bench as the shot was fired. He rolled and came up running. He rounded the corner to give himself cover. 

“I said drop them!” He shouted angrily and peaked out around the wall.

Two more bullets were embedded into the drywall of the corner as he pulled his head back out of sight. Dick grabbed his radio. “I’ve got a code 13, requesting back up to the front entrance of the court house.”

He didn’t wait for whatever response came. Dick was too filled with energy to wait. The men stood fumbling with part of the barrier. Dick frowned, whatever they wanted couldn’t be  _ here _ . If they were after something they would need to go deeper into the court house. Yet they hadn’t moved. In fact they were back on the  _ other  _ side of the turnstile again. One of the men, the shorter of the two, saw him moving and raised his gun again. But he had reached the barrier. Dick dropped sliding underneath the metal turnstile. He felt his belt snag on something as he went. The belt dug horribly into his back and hips. Dick bit back a startled yelp at the pain. 

Without pause, he flung himself up at the man closest to him. Dick-- with his left hand-- pushed the gun away from his body and brought his right elbow down on the man's forearms. He let out a shout as Dick hit him. The gun clattered to the ground. It seemed to echo as it bounced, though Dick knew he couldn’t actually here it hit the ground over the sounds of screaming and crying. 

As he fought he saw the body of a security guard laying near the doors. Involuntary Dick cried out in anger. He had met him. Dick knew that man that was now laying dead on the courthouse floor. 

A burning hot flash of pain shot through his arm. He dropped instinctively. Pulling the first man with him. 

“Drop your weapon and get on the ground--”

“Get on your knees--”

“Drop it now--” 

A chorus of voices seemed to be shouting from every direction. Dick didn’t stop though. He rolled with the man and pinned him so he was laying flat on his stomach. Dick’s eyes searched the room for danger, but he wasn’t met with angry shouting or a gun. The second man was face down and being handcuffed by a security guard. 

Dick refocused on the man beneath him. Restrain. Secure. He pulled the man's arms behind him and adjusted his position so that he couldn’t escape-- not that he seemed to be trying. 

“Grayson?” A shout filled the already chaotic hall. “Boot!” 

Dick jumped up and away from the man he had been carefully restraining as other uniformed officers took over for him. 

“Here, sir.” He called out, as he continued looking around for his training officer. 

Leoni pushed his way past the guards and other officers frantically. When he spotted Dick he swore colorfully and put one hand over his heart. “Rookie. I swear if you-- you’ve got blood on you.”

Dick looked down. His arm was in fact bleeding slightly. “I must of been nicked by something.”

“We’re getting it checked out. Now.” Leoni’s eyes were slightly wild as he glanced around. “Honestly-- on the first day.” 

Dick chuckled but stopped when Leoni shot him a cold look. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t apologize, just do better.”

Dick flushed slightly but nodded. Though he wasn’t really sure what he was meant to do  _ better  _ on. 

Paramedics arrived and were running about treating bumps and bruises from hard falls and collisions made on the mad dash everyone had made at the first sound of gun fire. Black tarps were laid out over two bodies. Dick felt his stomach churn at the sight. Which was odd; he was no stranger to death. 

The security guard Dick had seen injured early was whisked away quickly before he had the chance to see for himself how bad the damage had actually been. 

He would have to hack into the hospital's system later and check on him. He couldn’t help the nagging feeling of guilt that was forming in his stomach. He should have tried to treat him. Back up hadn’t taken that long. Back up in itself seemed a strange idea. As Nightwing there were no reinforcements coming, no back up to be had. In the rush of adrenaline Dick had forgotten that was no longer the case-- at least during the day. 

Leoni finally flagged down one of the paramedics frantically dashing around triaging injuries. She took one look at Dick, saw the blood stain spreading across the sleeve of his uniform and made straight for him. Dick sighed but allowed the blonde paramedic to frog march him to a gurney. 

“What happened.” she demanded her voice left no room for humor. 

“I was shot, well grazed. I think it’s okay though.” Dick added as Leoni blanched

“Shirt off then.”

Dick blinked. “Erm I’d rather--”

“Boot, it wasn't a question.” Leoni scowled at him. 

Dick sighed and untucked his shirt. He frowned when he noticed his hands were shaking slightly as he unbuttoned it. It was the adrenaline, Dick decided. He wasn’t shaken; it was just the adrenaline dying down. That was hardly a scuffle. He could handle it. What he  _ should  _ be concerned with was the fact that both Leoni and this paramedic were going to get a good look at the number of scars that littered his chest and arms.

After fumbling over a few buttons the paramedic took pity on him and pushed his shaking fingers away. 

“I usually don’t let anyone undress me without buying me a drink first.” Dick said jokingly, only to receive an icy glare from Leoni. 

“Leave the poor woman alone to do her job, boot.” 

Dick winced as the fabric was pulled down over his cut. Leoni swore, but his eyes weren’t looking at Dick’s arm or even the littering of scars. He was instead looking at his lower back and waist line. 

Dick glanced down and grimaced. Purple and black webs were woven under his skin where his belt had smashed into him. 

“Oh, that must have happened in the scuffle…” He trailed off as the paramedic moved to unhook his belt. “Sorry, but you can’t take that.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Not ‘cause I  _ care _ , it’s a department policy. Don’t let anyone take your--”

“Rookie, give me the belt.” Leoni thrust out his hand exasperated. 

A voice at the back of Dick’s mind --that sounded a lot like Bruce-- screamed at him for surrendering his utility belt as he handed it over. 

Okay, you’re going to need at least two stitches and some serious ice for that, but other than that you seem okay. Did you hit your head at all or anything else?” The paramedic asked.

“No, just my arm and waist.” Okay, well let's get you transported then and then you can get a full work up for duty at the hospital too.” 

“I’ll follow in the shop.” Leoni gave him a small smile. “I’ll let the watch commander know you're out for the rest of the day, on medical clearance.”

“What?” Dick made to stand but was pushed back onto the gurney. “I’m fine. Why would you take me off duty?”

“The hospital has to clear any GSW, and I have a ton of paperwork now. So unless you want to sit at the station wrapped in ice and help me fill them out, then there’s no reason for you to stay.”

Dick blanched. “But the detail. Won’t we--”

“Everything gets docked in the event of an… attack on the court house. The case won’t be re-scheduled for weeks, maybe months.” Leoni waved his hand. “Just relax I’ll see you at the hospital. We can do your statement and report before I head back to the station that way you can go home straight from the hospital.”

“Sir, I’m really fine. It’s not that--”

“You will be covered if that’s what you're worried about.” Leoni interrupted.

Dick tilted his head in confusion. “Covered?”

“You still get paid, kid.”

“That’s not what--”

“Then there's nothing to worry about. Let me deal with the paperwork and just rest up, okay?” Leoni patted his uninjured arm, and backed away so that the paramedic could finish packing up. 

Dick blinked. Now he was confused. Not only did it feel unnatural to take time off for so minor an injury but Leoni was offering to do his paperwork. Tom would have never done paperwork for him. Being a boot meant you did the work. Your TO just got a free pass on it unless it was really serious. “Okay.” 

Leoni nodded and watched as Dick and the paramedic loaded into the ambulance. Dick didn’t think this was necessary. He was barely hurt after all, but Leoni wouldn’t hear it. 

It wasn’t until they were pulling away from the courthouse that Dick thought to ask. “So what’s your name?”

“Megan.” The paramedic glanced up from where she was untangling wires. “Here I’m just gonna put this on your finger to check for oxygen levels.”

“I’m Dick.” He held his uninjured arm out for her to put the clamp on his finger. 

“Seriously?” She narrowed her eyes. Dick noticed a speck of green in her blue eyes as she leaned in to place a sticker on his chest. His heart beat marked on the machine filled the back of the ambulance, as she connected a cord to the sticker. 

“Yeah it’s short for Richard but no one calls me that.”

“That’s…”

“Crazy? Unusual?” Dick grinned and watched as she glanced at the monitors.

“Well... yeah.”

“I was born in a circus.”

“Okay.  _ Now  _ you're pulling my leg.” Her eyebrows quirked up at him.

“Nope, an honest to God circus.”

Megan laughed and snatched up a clipboard. Dick watched her take notes on his stats for the rest of the duration on the ride to Bludhaven West. He could have told her most of them, but then he would have to explain that Bruce had trained him to check his pulse and heart rate by just sitting still enough to feel it. 

As Dick finished getting checked in and settled into a room, Leoni arrived with a stack of paperwork and two cups of coffee. 

“So what exactly happened, Rookie?” Leoni asked as he sat down across from Dick’s hospital bed and the nurse finished applying the final stitch on Dick’s arm.. 

Dick fidgeted with one of his many ice packs and recounted what happened in as much detail as he could remember. “So I slid under--”

“You did what?” Leoni set down his coffee hard on the counter. “Grayson, you  _ never  _ run in without cover. They told me you were intelligent.”

“I didn’t have--”

“No. You don’t get to do that. You risked your life today needlessly. You don’t get to make excuses. You say, sorry sir. I was a complete moron and it will never happen under your command again.”

Dick started. “I didn’t--”

“Wrong. You are my responsibility and as long as that’s the case, your life is mine. You don’t get to throw it away on fancy heroics. When you pass your probation then -- if you want to-- you can throw away your life. All I ask is you don’t do it when it could endanger someone else.” Leoni slumped back into the pleather hospital chair with his arms crossed.

“I’m sorry sir.”

Leoni raised an eyebrow, a scowl still etched on his face.

“I was a complete moron and it will never happen under your command again.” Dick parroted back at him, feeling his face heat up. 

Leoni stared at him for a long moment. Dick didn’t blink.

Sighing, Leoni picked up his pen again. “Okay, so you slid under what?”

Dick continued the story without further interruption, aside from a few snorts and eye rolls. After what felt hours, Leoni clicked his pen closed and stood up. 

“Okay, so who am I calling? Mom or Dad?”

“Err…” Dick frowned.

“No you’re right dumb question, Dad right?” Leoni pulled a cell phone from his belt. “Mom’s are the worst with injuries.”

“I don’t-- There’s no one to call.” Dick couldn't meet Leoni’s eyes. Sure he had filled forms admitting so much, but to say it out loud felt… final. It was like it hadn’t one hundred percent been true until that moment. 

Dick glanced up and saw Leoni was looking at him with an odd expression. His bottom lip was slightly pressed down, as if he was biting the inside of his mouth. 

“Well then I’ll have a cruiser drop you home after you’re discharged.”

“Umm no that’s fine, I mean I’ve got-- I can call my friend from high school. He can come get me.” Dick moved for a belt then realized that it wasn’t there and froze. “Do you have--”

“It’s in the shop lock box-- you can use mine.” Leoni unlocked the phone and passed it to him quickly. “I’ll get your things out of the shop and bring them in. That way you don’t have to worry about swinging by the station.”

Leoni slid the door shut behind him as he left. Dick sighed and began to type. 

Wally answered on the second ring. “You’ve reached Wallace West.” 

Dick snorted. “Hey man. It’s me.”

“Dick?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. What happened to your phone?” Wally must have put him on speaker phone. Dick could hear tell tale signs of computer keys being typed on at inhuman speeds. Wally must have had an assignment he was working on. 

“It’s in the car-- listen I need someone to come pick me up, can you?”

The typing stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a bit of a small snafu at work and it’s policy I get the day off or something.” Dick could practically hear Wally’s brain working.

“Is this because of turning in Curvy?”

“Curry,” Dick corrected. “And no. There was a shooting and I got clipped, nothing bad. Just two stitches, but my new TO is making me take the rest of the day.”

“You got shot?” Wally all but shouted into the phone.

“Only  _ technically _ .” Dick sighed. He should have called Clark. Wally had been out of the game for too long. He had lost the sense of normalcy that came with the nightlife that Dick led. Wally’s new normal -- well  _ normal  _ normal really-- had reverted to freaking out over stitches and hospitals. Dick wondered if he panicked over his own injuries now despite his healing abilities. 

“Dick you either get shot or you didn’t. There is no technical nothing. It’s a yes or no answer.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I got shot. Now can you pick me up or--” a slight burning smell filled the room. 

“What the hell is that?” Wally pointed angrily at the ice packs laying on Dick’s hips. 

“--not?” Dick blinked, unsure of how to process the sudden appearance of his best friend. “Wally, you can’t just--” Dick waved his arm up and down frustratedly. 

“You got  _ shot _ . I’m not driving here.”

“Wally--”

“I mean honestly, what do you expect me to do? I’m retired not dead--”

“Wally--”

“I can still run you know?”

“Wally!” Dick whisper shouted at his best friend. “Your shoe is on fire.”

“Oh--” Wally swore and began stomping frantically. 

Dick rolled his eyes as Wally put out the small flames eating his shoes. 

“Boot! Did you want any coffee or--”

“Wally you need to go, my TO can’t see you!” Dick made to get up only to have Wally zip away. 

“--anything before I go?” Leoni’s hair fluttered slightly from the draft Wally created in his quick exit. 

“I’m okay, but thank you.” Dick smiled and held out his cell phone to him. 

“What the hell is that smell?” Leoni poked his head in the hallway and looked up and down the hall.

“Erm.. I heard someone say something about someone getting hurt burning their ex’s tires.” Dick invented wildly.

“Huh. Okay. Here is your equipment.” Leoni waved a lock box slightly. “I left it in the case, so you could get some sleep if you need. I’m gonna cuff it to the bed rail though. You have your key?” Leoni paused before clicking the cuffs shut. 

“Yeah, I've got my hideaway one here.” Dick waved at his boots on the counter. 

“Okay, and your ride home is sorted out?” Leoni had finished clasping the handcuffs and was looking at Dick very intently. 

“Yeah, I’m all squared away. Thank you, you really didn’t have--”

“Grayson,  _ don’t _ . I’m only going to say this to you once. So, listen up. It is my job to watch your back. You are my partner out in the field just as much as my boot. The only difference is if you die on my watch not only will I have lost a partner, but I will have failed you as your training officer. My only job is to make sure you don’t die during probationary  _ and  _ after. And that means training you to be as good of a cop as I can. Part of that means teaching you how to do partner work.”

Dick looked down and fiddled with the edge of a blanket. Partner work. Somehow he had felt like he’d put that behind him. When he signed up he hadn’t envisioned this. How had he been so stupid? He had thought he could distance himself from police work somehow. That it would feel like an undercover operation. But this…  _ caring  _ was more then he-- well Dick didn’t know what to feel about it. 

“Boot?”

Dick glanced up, still trying to work out the conflicting thoughts battling in his mind.

“If you aren’t up to that then you need to tell me. Right now.” Leoni was looking at him with an odd expression. He wasn’t mad Dick decided, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“Sorry. I… I just--”  _ haven’t thought about having a partner in a long time _ , Dick wanted to say, but couldn’t. “Yes. I’m ready. I’m sorry about today.”

“No. Don’t. Rule one don’t apologize. Words are useless to me. Just do better. Don’t run in half cocked. Next time it will get you killed. You got off easy today.” Leoni looked at him for a moment longer, before nodding and turning to leave. “See you in the morning, boot.”

Dick sat with an odd mix of feelings bubbling in his stomach. Leoni was so different to Tom. Tom had dumped paperwork on him and couldn’t have cared less when Dick took a hit on the job. Dick wasn’t sure what to think of this new caring TO. It made him uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact he reminded him of Bruce. 

It reminded him of the Bruce that used to get mad when he jumped into a fight, the one that used to tell him off for staying up to fill out reports. How many times had he offered to do something so Dick wouldn’t have to? Dick could feel water building up behind his eyes. He hastily rubbed the back of his hand over them, to keep the tears from falling. He could hear Wally in the hallway talking to a nurse. 

It sounded like he was getting Dick’s discharge paperwork. Dick tried to focus on the sounds around him as he fought to rein in his emotions. 

He’s not Bruce. Leoni could be a teacher, a trainer, a partner at work, perhaps even a friend, but he would never be what Batman had been to Dick. Batman-- Bruce had been so much more than all of that. At least until he wasn’t.

No. Leoni wasn’t Bruce. He wasn’t a guardian or -- Dick felt a lump form in his throat. But then Bruce really hadn’t been that in the end either. So then Leoni really was just like Bruce had been. Just a training officer in the end. 

Wally sauntered in the room looking pleased with himself. “Hey you ready to-- Dick?”

Faster than Wally could move Dick forced his face into a smile. “Yeah, I’m ready to get out of here.”

Wally shot him a funny expression but didn’t say, instead he snatched up Dick’s things and helped him step into his shoes. 

Dick wasn’t really sure what he did to deserve Wally West, but then some things were hard to quantify. 


	4. Grounding Giants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go! I'm still shooting for the 12ish chapter range, but I will be updating every other week, as I'm working on some one shots and and Bingo prompts! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy. As always I love to hear from you, also feel free to hit me up on Tumblr I'm CKBookish there as well.

Some souls are too big to hold,

But I think I might try anyway. 

Afterall, If I let go

who will catch you?

* * *

Jason sat jittering in anticipation. He hadn’t been this excited since he first met Dick, and that had tinted with a bundle of anxiety. This was just… well Jason couldn’t remember being this excited without some bit of fear worming it’s way in. This wasn’t dangerous, like his first night as Robin, it wasn’t scary like his first day in the Manor, and there was no possibility of rejection. So Jason was practically vibrating with anticipation. Bruce should be home any minute and then he would change and then they would go. 

Jason checked his mask in his reflection on the Batcomputer monitor, for the umteenth time. He had asked Bruce to take him to Watchtower when there was a meeting so that he was  _ sure  _ to meet her. He was going to meet Wonder Woman, the greatest superhero-- no matter what Bruce might say. Jason might agree with him that Nightwing was cool and all, but no one was cooler than Wonder Woman.

To be honest, part of him thought it might be Bruce being sentimental to claim he was the best. But then Jason had yet to  _ really  _ see Dick in action. He had seen Nightwing training and messing around, but never in an honest fight. Not that he had seen Wonder Wonder but Jason just  _ knew  _ that she was incredible. 

How often had his mom sat and watched videos of her saving people or news clips of her with him? Jason didn’t know how to express to Bruce just how much meeting Wonder Woman would mean. He thought Bruce must know a little, for the emergency meeting had been called for that evening, Bruce had texted Jason right away asking if he wanted to go.

Bruce entered the cave at exactly 4:25. Jason leapt from his perch on top of the desk and practically jumped on the man. Bruce to his credit only laughed and let Jason pull him towards the changing room. “Bruce come one. You are so slow, old man.” 

Bruce dragged his feet slightly on the polished stone floor. Jason groaned and spun so that he was at Bruce’s back and began pushing rather than pulling him. 

“Jay. You know I’m feeling so tired today. I was thinking I needed to sleep today rather than go out again. And the meeting is only for hearing a transmission from the Lanterns Corps. I don’t  _ really  _ need to be present.”

“Bruce, you wouldn't dare.” Jason put a hand over his heart in mock fear. 

Bruce chuckled, “give me five and we’ll go. Can you grab the files on the desk for me?” 

Jason was off and out of the changing room faster than Bruce could blink. 

The drive into Gotham to the Zeta Tube was agonizingly long. Jason’s legs were bouncing and Bruce was whistling some cheesy show tune. Jason thought it sounded familiar but couldn’t place it. 

“You remember what I told you?” Bruce said as he pulled the Batmobile to a stop. 

“Not to accidentally eject myself into space?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “That and?”

“Don’t touch things without permission.”

“And?”

Jason though for a long moment. “Erm..”

“Don’t say anything during the meeting. Afterwards you can talk to your heart's content. But the meeting is important. If you can’t sit quietly, then you can sit in my room or the rec room until it’s over.”

“I can be quiet.” Jason frowned. He had been on stakeouts with Bruce before, he should know Jason was a great listener.

“Okay. Do you have your snacks?”

“Bruce, I’m not five.” Jason snapped. 

Bruce looked like he had been struck, and Jason immediately felt his stomach flip. “I know you’re not. I just-- never mind.” 

Bruce smiled at him but Jason couldn’t help squirm uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I just-- I’m ready for this, B.”

“I know.” Bruce said softly. “Let's get going then, huh?”

They materialized into a room that was bright and filled with loud sounds. Jason’s eyes, still adjusting to the light, were drinking in everything. 

A large window showed the Earth and Moon and a black sea of constellations. A handful of people were milling around chattering. The walls, floors and ceilings looked like something out of a Hollywood film. Jason was mesmerized. He carefully looked over each person going over their file mentally as he did. 

_ Oliver Queen-- AKA the Green Arrow: Millionaire from Star City, human, weaknesses: pride and close quarters combat.  _

_ Barry Allen-- AKA the Flash: Forensic tech at the Central City Police, meta-human, weaknesses: high metabolism and the cold.  _

_ Hal Jordan-- AKA Green Lantern: Pilot, human, weaknesses: pride and loss of powers without ring.  _

_ Martian Manhunter-- alias J’ohn J’onzz: Martian ambassador to Earth, Martian, weaknesses: heat, weakness of whoever he is morphed into.  _

_ Shazam-- Classified for B’s eyes only. (Jason was still trying to hack that file.)  _

_ Giovannie Zatara-- who goes by his surname: Magician, human, weaknesses: can only cast spells as if he can talk. _

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward. “Afternoon. Robin, this is Flash, Martian Manhunter, Shazam, Green Arrow, Zatarra. Oh and... Lantern.”

Jason felt overwhelmed as everyone greeted him enthusiastically and shook his hand. But the person he wanted most to meet wasn’t there. Bruce sensing his disappointment looked about the room. “And Superman and Wonder Woman?”

The group went silent. Jason felt Batman tense beside him. 

Barry cleared his throat, “They are meeting with Nightwing, they should be back any--”

“Nightwing? He’s…” Bruce trailed off as distant shouts drifted into the room.

“For the last time, I told you I’m fine. I don’t need you to baby me!” 

Jason looked up at Bruce. His face was unreadable, but his grip on his shoulder was tighter than it had been just a moment ago. 

“Nightwing, please!” Superman pleaded. “I just want you to take one night off, You were just released from--” 

Clark looked as if he had walked into a wall as the group rounded the corner. Dick stiffened and quickened his pace. Wonder Woman was trailing behind the arguing pair but seemed to read the room quickly. 

“Robin, what a pleasure to have you join us today.” she said brightly into the tension filled room.

Dick flinched. But Jason couldn’t analyse that now; his eyes were only for Bruce. He was looking at his oldest like a man who had been in a desert for years looked at the ocean. And Jason didn’t know how to feel about that.

Clark still had his mouth slightly open from whatever he had stopped himself from saying.

Dick seemed to collect himself first. “Robin.” He nodded at Jason, then moved past Bruce without a word. 

Bruce turned, tripping on his cape slightly. “Nightwing!”

Jason reached out and grabbed Bruce’s cape. Holding onto his dad was something he wasn’t sure who needed more, him or Bruce. He hadn’t seen Dick and Bruce together yet and there was something off in the way Dick set his shoulders.

Dick stopped just feet from the zeta tube, but didn’t turn. 

“Are you-- are you alright?” Bruce sounded so very unbatmanlike. 

“Never better.” Dick said short and clipped. 

“I--” Bruce started forward, but Nightwing was already disappearing in a flash of bright white light. 

Bruce stared at the blinding light desperately. Jason wondered if Bruce would ever look at him that way? Would he ever be as worthy of Bruce’s love as Dick Grayson had been? But then Dick had ensured him Bruce loved Jason far more than he ever cared for Dick. But Dick was never home, he didn’t see the way Bruce would stare at the empty seat in the dining room that Jason never dared touch. Or the way he would scour the Bludhaven paper for any report of Nightwing every morning before he would so much as touch his coffee. Dick didn’t hear him on the phone with the Flash fishing for any scrap of news on him. 

Bruce spun around wildly pulling Jason form his thoughts. “What happened?” 

He was looking at Clark, wildly. And Clark suddenly looked as if he might follow suit and disappear through the zeta tube too. 

“Robin?” A small hand turned him away from the developing argument. 

Wonder Woman was tall-- not as tall as Jason had expected-- and was looking at him with soft blue eyes. It felt like she could see right through him. 

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance. Batman and Nightwing have spoken very highly of you.” her smile was dazzling in a way that no TV camera had ever done justice. Jason felt Bruce’s cape slip from his fingers. But somehow he didn’t care. _Wonder Woman_ was talking to him.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Jason held out a shaking hand. 

“What do you mean he was in the hospital?” Batman roared behind him.

Jumping slightly, Jason started to turn in terror. But Wonder Woman’s hand was firm and gave no room for the motion. “Why don’t I show you around?”

Jason was torn. Bruce needed him. He hadn’t  _ ever  _ heard the man so upset. Not even when he skipped class for a movie. The rest of the League had rushed forward to intervene as Batman shouted in Superman’s face. But here he was being offered a tour by Wonder Woman herself. 

She smiled knowingly at him. “I’ll explain on the tour. Then you can tell Bruce the whole story when he’s not so upset.” 

Jason couldn’t argue with that logic and allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the space station. 

* * *

Wally sat with his hand pinching his nose as Dick continued to shout. Some days he really questioned his best friend's sanity. 

“So let me get this straight. You’re mad at me? Because I told Barry, who told Clark, that I was picking you up from the hospital and couldn’t go to the store for him?”

Dick took a deep breath-- his face still beet red from shouting-- then suddenly deflated. “When you put it like that it sounds really dumb.”

“Well that’s because it is.” Wally flopped back and so that he was laying on the dock rather than sitting on the edge. He wasn’t sure why Dick had asked to meet him at some middle of nowhere lake, but Wally wasn’t complaining. It was nice here. The birds were loud but not in an unpleasant way. “I mean it’s not like I called Clark and told him you were shot.”

“It was a graze!” Dick threw his hands in the air. “It’s bad enough Leoni made me take the rest of the day, but for Clark to say I should go out tonight. Honestly who does he think he is? My dad? Well new flash I haven’t had one since I was eight!”

“Bro, you know he was just looking out for you. It’s  _ Clark _ . He gets all midwesty and farmy when he is concerned.”

“What the heck does that mean?” Dick slumped down onto the dock by Wally’s head. 

“I don’t know, it's just-- it’s just what he does. He loves you and when he heard you got in a fight he got scared, like any parent--” Wally rolled his eyes as Dick opened his mouth to protest. “-- or friend would do.  _ I  _ was freaked out and you aren’t getting on  _ my  _ case for it.”

“You didn’t tell me to say home tonight.” 

“Only cause I knew you would throw a fit if I did.” Wally looked up at him sadly. Dick sat leaning over him, giving him the appearance that he was upside down. “We’re not Bruce and you’ve got to stop reacting to us like we are.”

Dick’s eyebrow’s furrowed. “I don’t--”

“Yeah, you do. And to be honest, it’s kinda frustrating. You’re my best friend and I love you but you keep getting mad at me and Clark for trying to help you.”

Dick paled. 

“I’m not mad.” Wally said hurriedly. “But you need to know--and I mean really understand me here-- I’m not leaving and neither is Clark.” 

Dick looked away from him and out at the small waves. Wally held back a sigh. Being Dick Grayson’s best friend was the best thing in the world, but it was also one of the hardest. Sometimes it was hard to look at him and not see just how messed up his whole life was. Between video games and pizza parties Wally would sometimes look over at him and just crumple under the weight of it all. 

“I know you’re not Bruce.” Dick finally said. “I just-- Did I tell you about my new TO?”

Wally frowned and sat up. Water splashed the dock as he swung his legs up out of the water as he turned around to face Dick. “No. You haven’t.”

Dick nodded. “I think I’m just-- confused because of him today.” 

“What do you mean?” Wally was wary of anyone in the Bludhaven PD. He had heard Dick tell him too many stories to not be. 

“He is kinda like B, used to be. I mean when I was little.”

Wally could barely remember a time before the legendary Batman and Robin fights. Admittedly he and Dick had only been friends for a short while before they started to happen. “Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know yet.” Dick admitted. 

Wally hummed and leaned over to bump their shoulders together. “I’ll still be here when you figure it out.”

Dick grinned. “Thanks. And I’m sorry I’ve been treating you like a punching bag. I just-- I feel like the world is changing the rules on me every five seconds. Like one second gravity works and then the next it’s all sideways. But that’s no reason for me to be a jerk.”

“It’s not, but I also get what you’re saying. It’s forgiven. Though you might want to apologize to Clark as well.”

Dick nodded. 

“Barry texted and said they had to pry him and Bruce apart after you left.”

“What?” Dick moved so fast, Wally worried he would get whiplash. “What do you mean?”

“Just that B, was all over Clark after you left.” Wally could have kicked himself. He shouldn’t have said anything.

“Great. How much you want to bet I’ll have to hack the tubes to get access to Watchtower again.” Dick picked at a pebble lodged between two planks. 

“Why would you have to do that?” Wally watched as Dick flung it into the lake.

“I’m not in the league, I shouldn’t have access. I’ve avoided going there when he would notice for so long I forgot to worry about it.” 

“I don’t think he’s going to take your access.”

Dick snorted. 

Wally watched the trees sway with the wind for a moment, thinking. How could he put it in a way that Dick would accept?

“First, he knows you could hack in and give yourself access. Two that would piss off Superman and the League more. He’s been on thin ice since-- well he is already in their bad books.  _ And _ , I don’t think that was why he was upset in the first place.”

Dick frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“I think he was upset because he heard you were in the hurt and Clark wasn’t giving him any details.”

Dick snorted. “Oh please I could be on my deathbed and the great Batman wouldn’t give two --”

“ _ \--Dick _ , he would.” Wally said talking over his best friend. “He might be the world's worst human being, but he would care. I know you and him-- He would care, Dick.”

“Wally, I appreciate you trying, but I know him enough to know he wouldn’t. Not anymore at least.”


	5. The Precipice of Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have rewritten this four times. So please forgive the delay. 
> 
> As always I cherish hearing from you all.

I screamed for independence and wove it into a crown

But now I stand alone, hanging on it’s noose. 

* * *

Nightwing sat perched, on the ledge of the courthouse. The scene was still covered in police tape and several patrol cars were parked out the front. But Dick didn’t care much about the crime scene itself. What he  _ was  _ interested in wasn’t going to be found where the shooting had happened. So he found the heating vent access panel on the building's roof and very carefully lowered himself down into the hot dark metal ducts. He really was getting too old for this. But sometimes being a smaller build came in handy. Nighwing kept his weight carefully on the thick welds and joists as he moved his way through the building. 

Dick crept along the vents inch by inch, pausing every now and then to listen to guards chatting beneath him as their paths crossed with whatever vent he was in. 

“How long do you think we’ll be closed?” One man asked.

“Who knows. Have you seen how backlogged we already are though?”

Dick waited to move until they rounded a corner. He wondered if causing a backlog had been the purpose of the attack. It was a definite option, but it seemed like a drastic way to go about it. 

He had spent hours thinking about the attack on the courthouse that morning. It made no sense. Dick didn’t think it was logical to attack and not go  _ anywhere _ . They stayed at the entrance and retreated very quickly. The two men were a distraction. Dick was sure of it. But that left the question: what were they distracting everyone from? 

Dick had hacked into the security feeds and found that they had gone down 30 seconds after the first shot was fired. They didn’t get restored until  _ two hours _ later. That left a two hour window where something could have been done. But Dick didn’t think that the two hours were the biggest problem. 

The biggest problem was the number of people in the court house when it happened. He needed to map and track each person. Though time consuming, it was not too hard. He could access witness statements. But then he also needed to account for every officer and first responder that showed up in the next two hours. That would be the hardest part. Paramedics wouldn’t have to give a statement. So, he would have to hack into the hospital’s server and get the data from there. That would tell him what paramedics had been dispatched and what route they had taken from the scene to the hospital.

Then there were the officers. That would be easier; they would all be on the call log with their location and status. But that didn’t account for lies and thieves. 

The second question: what was done in the two hours? Two hours was plenty of time to plant a bomb, destroy evidence, or free a criminal from lock up. 

Dick was almost sure that no bombs had been planted. The building had been swept and K9 units paroled the building regularly. No one had escaped during the incident. Dick had double and triple checked. So that left theft as being the most likely reason. 

There were of course many things that were valuable in the courthouse. Dick was sure if he nosed around in the judges’ chambers he could find enough dirt for extortion or some kind of black mail for every single one of them. Well maybe aside from Judge Parks. From what Dick could tell she seemed to be an honest woman. Well if anyone in law could be. 

But that would be an odd target. Dick wouldn’t plan an attack for something that required subtly. Having a pocket judge was nice but  _ only  _ if it was a secret. So he would forgo searching the chambers. There were also records and sealed documents at the courthouse, which could be a viable target. But it didn’t feel right. The timing of it was too particular.

The court house had been given extra security that day. Not because the city expected the attack, but because the first hearing of Alexander Jacaby had been scheduled that day. Dick had only been there for that reason. 

So Dick would bet his tool box that the attack had something to do with the case. The hearing wasn’t open to the public-- like the trial would be-- but it still caused enough nervousness for the department to send in extra security. 

Dick sighed into the hot and cramped vents. This was taking forever. Deciding that he would rather deal with the possibility of being seen then continue crawling through the boiling vents, Dick began to look for a suitable place to exit. 

He came to a deserted judge’s chamber and figured there was as good a place as any to get out. 

Dick lowered himself to the ground very slowly. He could hear voices in the distance. Not near enough that he needed to get back in the vents, but close enough if he wasn’t careful, he would be heard. 

Dick had memorized the floor plans to the city courthouse over a year ago, but he had yet to find himself making use of that knowledge. And now the memories of the layout felt fuzzy and so abstract. 

Dick always wondered how Bruce did it. That man could keep a hundred blueprints in his head and be able to instantly apply them to a real place. Dick didn’t have that natural ability to project a blanket of lines and shapes into an actual room and place. 

Instead he worked at it. When he was young Bruce used to rearrange the furniture and give Dick a drawing of the new layout. Dick would then be blindfolded and sent to explore. They would pretend it was some sort of treasure hunt. Dick felt his throat tighten at the thought. He still didn’t find it as easy as Bruce did, even after years and years of practice and experience. 

He looked around trying to determine that he was in fact where he wanted to be. Yes this was definitely Judge Malkin’s chambers. So if he went down the hall and to the left, he would pass three offices and a utilities closet. Then he needed to turn right and there would be the evidence lock up. Or maybe it was left. Dick paused with his hand on the doorknob. And closed his eyes.  _ Just picture the map. Just picture the blueprint _ . 

He took a breath and stepped into the hall.  _ Trust yourself.  _ The voice in Dick’s mind sounded oddly like the Bruce of his childhood.  _ I’ll prove you wrong _ . Dick thought.  _ I can do this without you. Better than you.  _ Seeing Bruce with Jason in uniform that day had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt guilty that it had. He didn’t want to be angry. He was so tired of the anger. But he would rather that, than feel the sadness that came with knowing he was so easily replaced. 

Dick crept along the hallway, his eyes and ears intently searching for anyone. When he reached the evidence lock room, he stopped outside the door. He didn’t really want to  _ fight  _ the guard. That was bound to be on the other side of the door. He was doing his job, and it wasn’t his fault that he was stationed there tonight. Not only would he feel bad about it, but it would also be another strike against Nightwing regarding the city’s willingness to overlook his presence. He  _ could  _ use a knockout gas on him, but that alway had a slight possibility of a poor reaction. Dick signed and looked for a vent to climb through. 

Batman and Robin were respected members of Gotham by the time he was twelve. It was frustrating to have to revert back to habits and operational practices that Bruce and he had been able to forgo as trust and respect formed between Gotham City and it’s vigilantes. Dick had been a big part of forming that bridge of trust. Batman was-- and always would be-- the dark knight, the rogue man in the shadows. It was Robin that gave comfort to the city, to the people who lived there. It wasn’t until the formation of the Justice League that people maybe-- not feared, that wasn’t the right word, perhaps trusted that Batman was really on the side of the people. 

It seemed unfair that Dick was forced back to square one, when Bruce continued to thrive on the reputation he helped build. 

Dick shimmied through the vents wondering if he could get Superman to give Nightwing some sort of unofficial confirmation that he had the support of the League. He knew Clark would do it in a heartbeat. He knew, if he asked, the League would vote him into their ranks gladly-- all aside from Batman of course. But Dick didn’t want handouts. He didn’t want to ride on Bruce’s cape anymore. 

Dick dropped down into the evidence room and found himself faced with row upon row of dusty shelves. Dick went straight to the row of current case files. He wanted to be quick. Dick didn’t want to spend all night rummaging and looking through dusty rooms. He needed a good run. He’s frustrations over the day were still wound up in his gut. He wanted to jump and fall. He wanted that rush of adrenaline that could only come from a free fall. 

Dick found the case file quickly. Alexander Jacaby, the file had a list of evidence that would be in the corresponding bin. Two legal documents, a receipt from a gas station and one butcher's knife. 

He knew it was the knife that was what would really matter. Nightwing had been the one to find it. Jacaby was one of his first cases when he moved to Bludhaven. The man was a serial killer and hitman for hire. Dick hadn’t been able to tie him to half the murders he suspected him of committing, but he  _ had  _ found the murder weapon for Alice Musel. It was the main thing holding the prosecution together. Without it everything else was circumstantial.

Quickly and silently he replaced the top-sheet in the file and pulled the bin of the shelf. It was empty. No receipts, no legal documents and certainly no bloody knife with fingerprints all over it. Dick swore under his breath and shoved the bin back in its place. This would mean Jacaby would walk. 

Dick felt his gut roll. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Why hadn’t he kept a closer eye on the case. He should have been tracking it. Normally evidence would stay at the prescient-- under much tighter guard-- until a trial. At least that was how it worked in Gotham.

He had let the case slip from his mind. His role was  _ done _ . He had delivered the evidence. It was the system's turn to handle things. Dick closed his eyes and waves of guilt washed over him. 

He wasn’t in Gotham anymore. He wasn’t Robin anymore. The way he used to operate wouldn’t work here. 

Dick swore under his breath. 

Dick wanted to kick something. But this wasn’t the place. He walked back to beneath the open vent and jumped. His stitches pulled slightly as he pulled himself up and into the hot vents again. He hated winter. It was much worse to crawl through vents when the heating was on. Sweat dripped down his face. 

As he made his way back to the roof, his mind felt completely blank. He was flummoxed. There was no way whoever had taken the evidence had kept it. The knife would be so easy to get rid of. It could be dumped in the river, in hardening concrete, wiped down and in a knife block,  _ or  _ it could be in one of thousands of dumpsters across the city. No Dick doubted very much they would ever recover the evidence. 

It was now a matter of finding another way to convict Jacaby and to catch whoever had helped him. Dick began the free climb towards the roof. His gloves and boots pushed against the hot and smooth metal as he climbed in the tight space. He wouldn’t have time to go roof diving. He needed to start sorting through suspects-- his least favorite part of the job. He couldn’t understand why Bruce liked it so much. Dick reached the access panel and --making sure he was securely wedged in the vent, reached to remove it. Cool air whooshed over his face, making shivers run down his spin. He reached up and began pulling himself out. 

He had so much to do. He had too much to do. 

Dick froze halfway out of the roof access half in, his legs still dangling inside the vents. In the past year he had never wanted help more. Dick closed his eyes. The Batcomputer had programs that would hack, collate and analyze data. Without it Dick would be doing it all by hand. 

Dick’s little set up just couldn’t handle the task. As much as Dick was proud of The Nest, it was no Batcave. His jury rigged computer system was nothing compared to the tech he had had during his stint at Bruce’s side. But that wasn’t why he  _ really  _ wanted. He wanted Batman. He wanted to have someone to make mistakes with, someone to tell him he wasn’t doing it all alone. Not for the first time Dick wondered if Bruce would even take his call. Half of him-- that half that was still hopeful and naive was begging for him to call Batman. 

Dick pressed his forehead against the rusted metal he was hanging against. Blood slowly flooded his head as he stayed slumped over. He took a deep breath. Seeing Bruce must have done it.

He thought he had gotten a handle on this. He had tried and tried to stop missing him, to stop waking up and wanting to call him. It had worked too. For months. He had thrown himself so fully into work, that he no longer lay awake wondering what Batman was doing, or if Alfred had ever gotten that new mixer he had wanted. 

Hanging out with Jason and seeing Bruce today was what had messed up his carefully compartmentalized memories. Dick opened his eyes and let himself flop out of the opening onto the concrete roof. The movement helped. Maybe he would go roof jumping just for an hour. Then he could settle in and focus. Just an hour and he could forget. 

* * *

Dick sat at his shared desk clicking his pen over and over, as he watched officers mingle and gossip. The station was buzzing. Nightwing had left a tip that the courthouse shooting had been a distraction and that evidence had been taken from the lock up. The brass were panicking. Which Dick thought was both funny and worrying. They were searching to find  _ how  _ Nightwing had gotten into the Courthouse and bypassed all the security. They hadn’t figured it out. 

But the worrying part was some of them only seemed to care that it was the top news of the Bludhaven Blueville Press. Dick had learned that it was best to publicly source most of his Intel rather than try and find an officer to work with. While Dick liked Gordon and trusted him. He couldn’t extend that same respect to any officers here. He  _ liked  _ his captain and Hess, but he didn’t know that they would stick their necks out for a vigilante.  _ Dick Grayson _ , rookie cop, sure, but Nightwing was just too much of a risk. He wasn’t backed by anyone publicly and Dick hadn’t done enough missions on world with the Titans as Nightwing to make himself a reassuring household name. 

No. Nightwing was still very much considered an unknown rouge. 

“Boot!” Dick stopped clicking his pen and turned to see Leoni waving at him as he exited the locker room.

“Morning, Sir.” Dick smiled up at his TO. 

“Hey, how are you feeling? Everything get cleared for duty or am I getting chained to a desk for a couple days with you?” 

Dick blinked. Leoni was looking at him with actual worry. “Yeah, I'm fine. They cleared me straight away. The stitches can come out in a couple days. It’s really not a big deal.”

Leoni shot him a funny look but said nothing. “I take it you heard the big hubbub then?”

“Yeah, crazy that it was all a distraction.”

Leoni glanced around. “Yeah, from what this Nightwing said to the papers it looks like it’s an inside job.”

Dick felt his chest tighten. “How do you mean?”

Leoni rolled his eyes, “we both know that you know that this city is full of crooked cops.”

Dick blinked but didn’t comment. Did Leoni know he had turned in his last TO for racketeering?

“Anyway, the sergeant asked me this morning to work with major crimes to do some field work for the investigation. Are you going to be okay with that?”

Dick frowned, confused. What was Leoni worried about? “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Leoni sighed. “Kid, I just don’t want you to get in over your head with this. Look I’ve read your file. I may have only ridden with you a day so far, but I’ve seen your type. I just don’t want you to get into a mess you can’t get out of.”

“Why would working with major crimes be a mess?” Dick asked slowly.

“It just-- Look I know about your last TO okay.” Leoni said his voice low. “That was a mess, Sarge covered you pretty spectacularly, but this will be a  _ major  _ case. Your badge number will be on files and documents. You won’t be flying under the radar-- not within the department if someone is digging anyway. So if you aren’t comfortable with that then you need to tell me now. You can get a new TO  _ and  _ I won’t lose any respect for you.”

Dick leaned back in his chair causing the springs to squeak and groan. “I’d like to work with you on this, sir.”

“Okay.” Leoni smiled at him. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that, Boot. Just please don’t get shot again.” Leoni reached forward and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ve been looking forward to working with you.”

Dick felt a slight swooping in his gut, one that he hadn’t felt in a long time-- not since before he left Gotham.


	6. Bystander's Remorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I look at the timeline I question what I thought I was thinking writing something this long. But we are in too deep. 
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely Batman Day!
> 
> As always comments and kudos give me strength.

You didn’t and that is almost as bad as he did. 

how can you watch as they pull me apart?

* * *

November passed in a daze and December seemed to evaporate before his very eyes. Dick was busier than ever not only as Dick Grayson: working on his first joint task force investigating alongside major crimes, but Nightwing had taken down some heavy hitters as well. Papers were herolding him as a new knight of Bludhaven rather than a dangerous unknown. 

Not only that but crime was evolving. Many of the issues that Dick was looking into seemed to tighten up and become more covert. Dick couldn’t help but be reminded of the early years in Gotham. He felt a swell of pride that he was making the same kind of head way as Bruce and he had there, but this time completely on his own. He recognized the patterns as bosses and gangs moved to work in tighter circles. Mistrust amongst members was growing and it was becoming easier to spot the weak links. 

So when Dick walked into the station on a cold December morning just four days before Christmas he was exhausted. Somehow he had gotten the lottery Christmas break holiday and it was his last shift to get through before he would _mercifully_ have a break. Well, in his day job at least. It was his first Christmas as Nightwing and he didn’t want to completely disappear. Clark had even agreed to fly him back and forth from here to Kansas so he could spend at least four hours each night in Bludhaven. Dick had wanted six, but Lois had given him a cold look. 

“Grayson!” Dick turned to the welcome desk. He tended to try and walk right past it in the mornings rather than talk to whoever was on duty. Officer McNeil sat smiling at him. Dick changed his trajectory and smiled back. McNeil was nice. 

“Hey.” Dick said with a thick voice. He had only had a few hours of sleep and his body didn’t seem to agree with that decision. He cleared his throat slightly embarrassed and took a sip of his tea from his thermos. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know you have a visitor waiting for you.” she smiled brightly at him as if she had just told him he’d won the lottery. 

“A visitor?” Dick racked his brains to think who might drop by the station. He drew a blank. 

McNeil just smiled and turned back to her computer. So Dick did the only thing he could do and headed for the bullpen. 

Dick stiffened. It was immediately obvious who had come to see him. A balding man stood in a clean and pressed black suit next to his desk. He was speaking with Leoni. Dick felt a hundred things all at once. He was cold and hot simultaneously and filled with an odd ache he had forgotten was possible to feel. 

As if sensing Dick’s entrance, Alfred turned. Dick felt his heart skip. Alfred’s mouth spit into one of the largest grins Dick had ever seen. He looked him up and down with light piercing blue eyes. Dick wondered if he passed whatever inspection he gave, for his smile dropped just a little. Had Dick not spent years learning to understand Bruce and Alfred’s micro languages he would have never seen it. But it was there. 

Dick crossed the floor as if a hook was fixed around his navel pulling him to the man he hadn’t seen in over a year. 

“Richard.” Alfred breathed lightly. “You are-- You look well.” His eyes looked misty. 

“Hey Alfred.” Dick wondered if he would cry. He didn’t want Alfred to cry, but it would also seem satisfying is some sick sort of way. After all, Alfred had chosen to stay silently at his master’s side. He let him-- Dick bit down on his anger. What would Alfred do? Quit? For Dick, it wasn’t likely. No. Dick had only been another duty to the faithful butler. And judging by his emotions one that he had allowed himself to get slightly too close. 

“I thought I would return these.” Alfred held out a small cloth bag as if it were the most precious thing he could hold. “I have laundered them of course. Master Jason was very grateful for the loan.”

Dick blinked. He had loaned Jason a set of old clothes when he had thrown up all over himself skydiving last week. So this was _duty_ . Alfred was simply purging him from the house, _again_. Dick wondered not for the first time why Bruce allowed Jason to interact with him. 

“Thanks.” Dick took the bag and tossed it on his desk, ice creeping into his voice. 

Alfred winced, and Dick felt the anger coil back just a fraction. He had spent too long loving Alfred to wish him pain-- even if that meant he had to feel the pain instead. “You didn’t have to worry about--”

Leoni cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced.” He looked at Dick with one eyebrow raised. 

“Sorry right. Alfred this is Officer Leoni, my training officer. Leoni this is Alfred Pennyworth, my…” Dick suddenly felt as if the floor had vanished. “He runs the house I used to live at in Gotham.”

Alfred’s smile stayed fixed but his mustache quivered just a bit. “I was just wanting to return some of Richard’s things.” He took Leoni’s offered hand quickly. 

Leoni narrowed his eyes. “ _Dick_ is a great cop. I’m really lucky to work with him.” 

Alfred pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. 

Dick stopped his mouth from dropping open. Leoni always called him Boot, Rookie or Grayson. Dick was simply too informal. He felt a sudden rush of affection for his TO. 

“Well, I should be going.” Alfred looked uncomfortable like he had a million things to say, but didn’t know how. “Master Jason wanted me to tell you he would be unavailable this Thursday. His father is being released and we thought it would be nice to take him out of town and get his mind off it all.” Alfred glanced at Leoni as if unsure if he should say much in front of the man.

Dick stiffened. So Willis was getting out. He needed to call Jason and see if he was-- if not okay with the newest development-- at least dealing with it. 

“Is… Is B, expecting any trouble?” Dick would put up with Bruce if it meant Jason was safe. 

“Oh no. He surrendered his rights when he was convicted. He doesn’t know where Master Jason is staying.” Alfred was looking at Dick with an odd expression. It was affectionate, and Dick hated that it made him feel a slight buzz-- better than any drink could give. 

“Well, if you need-- he can stay with me. If--” Dick suddenly realized how stupid he sounded. Of course Bruce didn’t need help. He was Batman. He could send Jason across the world at a moment's notice. He could send him to space. 

Dick really wished Alfred hadn’t come. It was like looking at a picture of the moon after having walked it’s surface, upsetting and simply not enough. 

“A very kind offer, sir.”

Dick found he couldn’t look at Alfred anymore.

“Well we have a lot to do today, So thank you for stopping by.” Leoni shifted so that he was between Alfred and Dick. 

Dick let him. 

If Alfred said a farewell, Dick missed it. He was too busy staring intently at the collar of Leoni’s uniform forcing himself not to cry or shout. When he finally looked up Alfred was across the room and opening the door. It felt as if his insides had been scooped out and put in a blender. He was in knots and tangles. Dick watched the door swing shut and suddenly he didn’t want him to go. 

“Boot?” Leoni’s voice was soft. 

Dick blinked furiously. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. “Yeah. I’m good. Let's head out.”

“Grayson--” Leoni seemed to debate with himself for a moment. “Go get in the shop. I’ve got some more stuff to grab. We’re doing a stake out shift for major crimes.” 

Dick nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

He moved mechanically as if he had somehow disconnected his mind from his arms and legs. How had he not realized? It had been more than a year since he had seen the butler. He had seen Bruce in that time, albeit sparingly and for short amounts of time. But he hadn’t seen Alfred. 

Alfred had stopped calling after six months. The last Dick had spoken to him must have been his birthday. Dick didn’t know if he was mad or just… disappointed. But then Dick had been so angry in those first months, most of Alfred’s calls had been sent straight to voicemail. Perhaps Dick was to blame for the man’s distance. Wasn’t that the crux of it all, Dick wasn’t enough. _He has Jason now_ , he thought bitterly. Though Jason seemed to insist that they missed him every time they hung out, it seemed like such an abstract concept. 

He didn’t even notice when Leoni slid into the passenger seat of the shop next to him. 

“Boot. Hey!” Leoni snapped his fingers in front of Dick’s face. 

Dick barely controlled the flinch. “Sorry. Where are we staking out?”

“Nowhere in this.” Leoni rolled his eyes. “We will have to switch to an unmarked and do plain clothes for that.”

“Right. So what are we doing then?”

“Talking.” Leoni said simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Talking.” Dick repeated hollowly. 

“Yep. I didn’t figure you wanted to stay in the bullpen for this.” Leoni leaned back in the seat and fixed his eyes at the moving figures in the garage, cleaning cars, and loading gear. 

“And what is that exactly?” Dick asked coolly.

“Who was that?” Leoni still wasn’t looking at him.

“Who? Alfred? I told you he ran the--”

“No. I mean to you. Who was he to you?” Leoni glanced at him, but Dick couldn’t hold his gaze. 

Dick didn’t know how to answer that. What was Alfred to him? Was he a missed opportunity, a lost friend? He had felt more than that. “I thought he was family. Until he wasn’t.” 

Leoni nodded. “System?” 

“Yeah.” Dick spoke to the steering wheel. 

“Well screw them.” 

Dick’s head snapped up, his mouth open ready to defend Alfred and Bruce. The words died on his tongue. Leoni wasn’t angry looking. He looked sad. 

“You don’t deserve what they did. I know I can’t understand exactly, but I’m sorry you aged out and got--” Leoni pressed his lips together as if to stop the words from falling out. “--But I need to apologize for earlier. I’m sorry, I should have stepped in sooner.”

Dick’s eyebrows knit together. “What? Why?”

“You were uncomfortable with him the second you saw him. I could see it. I shouldn’t have let it play out. _You_ are my partner and I let you down. I read the room and didn’t defend you soon enough. I’m sorry. I won’t do that to you again.” 

Dick was nonplussed. “I--”

“No don’t. You being upset is reason enough for your partner to handle it. It wasn’t work related and I shouldn't have let it be a teachable moment. It should have been stopped.”

Dick just nodded unsure what there was to say. 

They sat there for a long moment in silence, until finally Leoni threw open his door. “Get changed, kid.” 

* * *

Dick sat fidgeting in the passenger seat of an old hatchback, wearing plain clothes. The corner they were watching had proved to be a rather boring stake out. Dick wished they could watch from the rooftops. Waiting for an informant to drop information in a secret panel of an ATM was much more tedious than it sounded. At least then he would be able to stretch his legs, and burn some of his nervous energy off. As it was, Dick found it rather suffocating to sit in the small car. Leoni seemed to be content eating his bag of almonds and watching the world go by. Dick wondered if he could run into the shop a few blocks away and get some Twizzlers. They were the superior stakeout snack. 

“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Leoni suddenly asked.

Dick kept his eyes fixed on the ATM on the corner. “I’m visiting some friends in Kansas.”

Leoni hummed and popped another handful of nuts in his mouth. “That sounds nice. Good friends?”

“Yeah. I grew up going to visit them in the summer and stuff.” Dick watched a man with a beanie pulled down low cross the street to the ATM, Dick tensed ready to jump should it be the informant, they were waiting on. He walked past the ATM and Dick sank back in his seat. 

“That’s cool. Are you doing anything particular?” 

Dick hummed. “We just did presents and stuff last year, and a dinner on Christmas Eve, so probably that.” Dick frowned. Jason had asked him to come to the manor for Christmas Eve, but that would have been… a complete fiasco. “Are you doing anything?”

Leoni snorted. “Nah. I’ll be working. Time and a half and all that.”

“You’re not spending it with your sister?” Dick played with his seat belt just to give his hands something to do.

“No, she’s staying in Paris this year.” Leoni smiled. “She met some artist and is going to his family’s for Christmas.”

Dick laughed. “Is this the same one she was seeing at Thanksgiving?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” Leoni sat forward suddenly. “I think that’s him.”

Dick watched as a man placed a small packet in the hidden compartment of the ATM’s front. Dick reached for the handle of his door. 

“Wait. No. I’ll get it, Boot. Stay here.” Leoni was suddenly walking quickly to the ATM, before Dick could so much as take his hand off the door. 

Dick watched the street carefully, scanning that no one was approaching. A utilities van choice just as Leoni reached the machine to park directly in front of the hatchback. Dick huffed and moved to get out of the car so he could keep watch. He didn’t want Leoni getting caught unawares. But before he could round the van, Leoni was already coming back across the street. 

“Got it. Let's go.” Leoni threw open his door and Dick followed suit. 

They made it four blocks away before Leoni pulled over and pulled the envelope open. 

“So?” Dick asked anxiously. Leoni had worked with vice and organized crime units before eventually moving to a training officer role. So he had more informants than Dick had back in his days as Robin. 

“There are some addresses that look promising, but I can’t see there being any evidence big enough to get Jacoby at any of these. He’s careful. No way he’s legally tied to any of these. But it’s a start. Maybe a shell company of a shell company?”

“Well that’s something. But they don’t have anything but address for us?” Dick frowned, taking the paper from Leoni, most of the factories were located on the edge of Avalon Heights. It was an up and coming part of town. In large due to the gentrification of the more residential parts of the district. It was still a haven for trafficking and money laundering from what Dick had been able to see. 

“Yeah just the addresses.” Leoni frowned. 

“I thought you said they would know something about who was helping Jacaby by stealing the evidence.”

“That’s what they said.” Leoni shrugged. “They’ve always been a big talker, maybe they just wanted to make sure we paid them?” Leoni slid the papers back into the envelope and turned the key of the car. 

“Well lets hope one of the shooters, cracks and tells us who they were working for.” Dick turned to face the windshield again. 

“Yeah, let’s hope. Otherwise we’ll be at a stand still just looking into paper trails.” Leoni chuckled. “I hate paperwork.”

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly as Dick and Leoni worked tracking and vetting companies who owned, or recently sold properties on the list. They narrowed it down to 16 possible locations that might warrant further investigation. Dick was planning on checking out a few of them that night. He could at least eliminate them quicker as he didn’t need to wait for warrants and court orders. 

It wasn’t until he was grabbing his things to leave that he remembered the bag Alfred had left for him. Leoni must have moved it off the top of his desk when he went to the car earlier. 

“Hey did you see where--”

Leoni reached under his desk and held the bag out to him. Dick frowned when he took it. He had been too upset to realize when he first got it-- it was heavier than it should have been. Dick let his curiosity win out and pulled the bag open. A Tupperware was filled with a jumble of smeared, broken and bent gingerbread men. Dick knew they would have been stacked nicely and neatly had he not thrown it down earlier. Dick suddenly both felt a terrible craving and disgusted for the cookie. 

“Boot?” Leoni stood up and peered into the bag with him. He sighed when Dick didn’t move. He just stared at the mess of icing and cookies. Finally Leoni reached into the bag and pulled the Tupperware out. He hesitated for only a moment before placing it all in the trash can. 

“You have a good Christmas, Grayson. I’ll see you next week.” 

Dick nodded numbly, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the bin. “Yeah. you too. Try not to solve the case without me.”

Leoni laughed demurely. “No promises, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip Alfred's cookies.


	7. It's In What's Not There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my days. This was a ride to write. I'm sorry for the delay. I moved across the planet and then my sleep scheduled was a wreck. But it's here!!!!
> 
> As always I love hearing from you all!
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr. I'm CKBookish there as well.

This ghost of a loss… how do you grieve that which is not dead?

Nightwing stood parched on the roof of an old neoclassical building, looking down over the warehouse district of Avalon Heights. The January wind was cold, as it whipped against the tight weave of this uniform. Dick pushed back a shiver and did his best to ignore the odd wish for his old cape that suddenly came over him. 

Dick jumped and swung to the ground gracefully. He tiptoed around a doc of empty trucks and slipped under a slightly open garage door into the warehouse itself. He sighed when he found the space empty. This was the twelfth warehouse he had looked into since he returned to Bludhaven after Christmas. All the addresses that Leoni’s informant had provided had proved thus far to be busts. Dick was rather irritated with himself. Lois had after one evening of him going back and forth between Kansas and New Jersey put her foot down. Clark rather sheepishly had agreed that Dick was stretching himself too thin and  _ both  _ had told him they would rather he stay the rest of the weekend in Kansas. Dick of course had no choice. It wasn’t as if he had access to the batplane anymore. He couldn’t pop over the Bludhaven whenever he pleased without some help. 

So instead he had kept the news on and made Clark promise to take him back if there was an emergency in Bludhaven. 

But now Dick was regretting his acceptance of Lois and Clark’s wishes. It was clear from the state of several of the addresses that they had only recently been cleared out. Whatever evidence that could have been used to hunt down Jacaby was lost. 

After a quick sweep of the rest of the warehouse, Dick decided to turn in for the night rather than beat the leafless bush for berries. He was half way home when his radio buzzed in his ear. The comm unit was a compilation of old equipment he had gotten from Titan’s tower and some of his own invention. He had programmed it to alert him to any police notices that were marked as level 6 response and above. 

Dick stopped, landing hard on the roof of an old apartment complex. He switched his comm from silent to the police channel. 

10-71, requesting 10-44 to the city lock up. Two DOA, GSWs to the chest. 

Dick frowned. Two people were dead at the cities overnight holding cells. He turned and found his feet guiding him downtown. He listened intently as the officers went back and forth. Someone had broken into the cells and killed someone. Two someones. Dick felt a weight drop in his gut. While it wasn’t unusual to have rival gangs kill each other, to die of a gunshot wound spelled either a guard had killed them, or someone had broken in. Dick couldn’t rule out the guards, not in Bludhaven. But it was also just as likely as someone either breaking in or paying a bribe for a guard to look the other way. 

Dick remained parched on the building across from lock up for several hours as uniformed officers and detectives went in and out, investigating the scene. Right now he really missed Batman’s high tech spy grade gear. He missed his thermal scope so that he could track people in the building’s movement, he missed his long range listening device that would allow him to hear conversations from a block away as if he was right next to the speaker. But most of all he missed the company. Bruce might have been sulky and quiet on a stake out, but he was at least a body to bounce ideas off of. Dick found that was one of the hardest things about solo work. He had no one to brainstorm with. 

It wasn’t until after four that the police released the scene and went back to a regular guard duty. Dick slipped into the building unnoticed and quickly hacked into the computer system. The cameras had again been shut off during the shooting, but Dick was able to find out who had been killed. Nightwing pinched his nose as he read the screen. The two courthouse shooters were dead.  _ They  _ had been killed. He wanted to hit something. Jacaby was going to walk. He had killed countless people, and Dick couldn’t do anything to stop his release. The leads had died up and now the only people who could possibly hold answers were dead. 

Dick swore colorfully and made his way out of the building. All the tiredness he had been feeling was gone. Instead he was angry. He wanted to hit and kick. He wanted to go a few rounds with someone, anyone. 

If Nightwing was more violent than usually that night, no news outlets reported it. Dick found his way home past six in the morning; the sun would be rising in another two hours and he had to be at work in three. Quickly he stripped his suit away, and stumbled into the shower. 

The hot water on his back felt like the best thing he had ever experienced. He stood letting the fluctuating stream run over him for far too long. The water began to turn cold after a few minutes. Sighing he quickly washed. The face that greeted him in the mirror was puffy and bruised. Dick scowled at his reflection. He had been too worked up and had gotten sloppy. Quickly he applied some concealer to the wounds and returned to the living room now sporting his day job’s uniform. 

He didn’t want to sleep. He was too wired to go to bed, and he would have only been able to get a short nap. Which he thought would only serve to make him  _ more  _ tired. No, what he needed was to work. So instead of waiting around to head to work, he simply walked out the door. He could get in a few off duty hours looking into the case. It would also be nice to not have to hack into the BPD’s network or sneak around to do it. If anyone asked, he could say he was just interesting because he had been at the courthouse shooting. 

Hess, and Leoni might not buy it but, it was reasonable to anyone who didn’t know about Dick’s hatred for dirty and crooked cops. 

So Dick shuffled into the station two and a half hours early. He knew he would regret it later, but the all-nighter seemed to give him focus. 

* * *

Leoni didn’t say anything when he found Dick already working when he arrived for their shift. He simply glanced at what he was working, sighed and pulled the long pile of suspects towards him. 

“Boot.” Leoni studied the list. “What is this?” He picked up the list and was reading it, a crease forming between his eyebrows. 

“Suspects.” Dick shot back without looking at Leoni.

“These are  _ badge  _ numbers.” 

“Yep.” 

Leoni swore. “Boot, this is a bad idea.” His voice got lower. “Look I know it’s hard, but sometimes the criminals get away and bad people go free.”

Dick rolled his eyes and kept typing in badge numbers of officers who were on duty when the two men had been killed last night.

“You’re not a detective, this isn’t your job. We go where they put us. And--” Leoni hesitated for just a moment. “This is way above our pay grade. Kid, this is how you get killed by the Twins or whoever is running what Jacaby’s getaway.”

Dick bit his lip but kept going. “If you’re scared I can ask for a transfer.” Dick’s voice was low. Dread built in his gut. He didn’t want to get another TO, but he also couldn’t let this go. 

Leoni was silent for a long time. Until-- finally-- he sank down into his chair and booted up his computer. Dick blinked. The fear dissipated and he returned to looking at alibis and station duties. 

“So what happened to your eye?” Leoni asked after an hour. 

Dick stiffened. “My eye?”

“It’s swollen.”

“I think I’m allergic to my new detergent.” Dick said lamely. He had covered the bruise’s color as best as he could, but little could be done for the swelling caused by the blow he had taken last night. 

Leoni hummed and didn’t press. “You know we have to patrol right?”

Dick nodded and kept making notes. 

“Come on, Boot. give it a rest. Computer work isn’t good for your eyes.” Leoni pulled Dick’s chair back away from the desk. “Go get stuff for the shop and we’ll head out.”

Dick opened his mouth to protest. This was important; they couldn’t let the trail run cold, not this time. 

“Real police work is done on the street not on the computer. We’ll ask around town what people have heard and get some face time with some CIs. It will be good for you to learn who to ask for this kind of intel anyway.” Leoni narrowed his eyes as if daring Dick to disagree.

* * *

Dick leaned back in his seat as Leoni drove slowly around town. They took several calls that came in, and did one stop for a speeding car. Dick couldn’t get the case out of his head though. He was still trying to nail down who could have either killed the men themselves or taken a bribe to let someone in. 

“Rookie, what do you say we get some lunch? I know a good place just around the corner. Then we can make some stops and ask around about this case.” 

Dick nodded his head still sorting through suspects. It wasn’t likely to be officer Marks, They had a cleaner record than most cops in the city, and he didn’t think the security guard, officer Steffan would have done it either. So that left the officers at the main desk and the officers that were booking new suspects when the crime took place. In total there were twelve people who were still on his list. 

Leoni sighed, when he came to a stop, but Dick didn’t move. “Snap out of it, Kid. You can’t let a case get to you or you’ll become an obsessive git. And let me tell you, that’s worse than death.”

Dick frowned. “I don’t know about that.” He mumbled, thinking about Bruce. He might have some things he didn’t like about the man and some personal bones to pick with him, but his obsessive behavior was better than him being  _ dead _ . That was for sure. 

Leoni snorted. “Trust me. It’s a death of its own kind.”

The radio buzzed, and Leoni pulled back his hand from the handle. 

“Central to Alpha, 96 respond.”

Leoni snatched up the radio piece. “Alpha 96 receiving, go ahead Central.”

Dick bucked back up ready should they be asked to respond to an incident. 

“Alpha 96 please be advised that Station 72 has an attending visitor.”

Leoni frowned. “You expecting anyone to drop by?”

Dick shook his head, and glanced at his phone. “You?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Alpha 96 to Central, acknowledged, show us attached to the station.”

Leoni clicked the radio piece back into place and turned the key in the engine again. “Looks like lunch is going to have to wait.” 

The drive back to the station was quiet. Dick could feel his heart pounding. No one had texted him saying they were dropping by, and no one would have shown up unannounced. 

Dick and Leoni trooped in from the garage to find a familiar figure sitting on officer Smith’s desk. She was laughing and nodding at whatever the boy was telling her. Dick frowned. Jason had always called-- barring the first time he visited the station. He-- likely due to nervousness-- would make sure it was okay to stop by. 

Leoni raised an eyebrow in question.

“He’s--” Dick stopped. Most of the station just assumed Jason was Dick’s brother, and  _ he  _ had let them. He even called Jason that. But for some reason the lie didn’t sit well in Dick’s gut and so it died on his tongue. Leoni would understand. At least he had before Christmas. 

“So you know him?” Leoni asked lightly. 

Jason still hadn’t seen them. Dick nodded and pulled Leoni back towards the hall. “Look, it’s kinda complicated.” Dick crossed his arms, suddenly cold. 

“Uncomplicated it then.” Leoni’s voice was even and warm. 

Dick swallowed. “He… He got adopted. I didn’t. He thinks I was though.”

“And you haven’t had the heart to tell him.” Leoni finished sadly. 

“No. I-- To be honest I’m surprised his dad lets him talk to me. We don’t--- we don’t get along anymore.” 

Leoni swore quietly. “I’m really sorry to hear that kid.”

Dick smiled but it felt more like a grimace. 

“You want me to deal with him?”

Dick’s eyes widened. “No!” 

Leoni raised an eyebrow. 

Dick cleared his throat sheepishly. “I mean, no. I--  _ We  _ get on. It’s just if he says he’s my brother… I didn’t want you to think I had lied to you or…” Dick trailed off when Leoni’s face melted into a look of pity. 

“Boot, If you say something, I will believe  _ you  _ first. You’re my partner.” 

Dick in lieu of responding simply nodded and headed back to the bull pin. This time Jason did see him. 

“Dick!” A few heads turned as Jason leapt down from the desk he had been sitting on and ran at Dick. 

Dick smiled and let Jason collide with him with only a slight huff at the forceful contact. 

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Dick asked lightly. 

Jason tensed slightly in his arms and pulled away. Dick blinked wondering if he was here because he had had a fight with Bruce. That was the only thing that would have driven  _ Dick  _ to run to another city without the either Alfred’s company or the man himself. But then Dick had clung to Bruce and Alfred’s sides when he was as young as Jason. 

“I was-- We didn’t see you at Christmas.”

Dick knew this was a flimsy excuse. It had almost been a mouth since the holiday. Jason glanced around and Dick sighed. He pulled Jason over to his desk and gently prodded him towards his own chair, taking the edge of the desk for himself. Leoni followed but at a distance. He might have been any other officer in the station for all the attention he gave Dick and Jason’s interaction. Dick knew it was an attempt to give him privacy. 

“Jay, what’s wrong. You should be at school.”

“My dad called.” 

Dick tilted his head for a moment not understanding what Jason was talking about. And then it hit him.  _ Willis _ . Willis had been released from prison the month before. “He found you?” 

Jason nodded. 

“Did he try… what happened?” Dick knew Bruce would have increased security tenfold and would never leave Jason to his own devices were Willis a threat, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

“He just called.” Jason pulled at his uniform’s jacket. 

“Are you okay?” Dick wasn’t sure what Jason wanted from him. Bruce would have been a reassuring figure. Bruce was good at that: making you feel safe. 

“Yeah, I just. Is it bad that I kinda want to see him?” Jason’s voice was so quiet had Dick not seen his mouth moving he might have missed it completely. 

“No. It’s not Jason. I miss--” Dick felt his face burn. He hadn’t said it before, but in that moment he knew it was true. He missed Bruce. Despite everything, he missed the man so much it hurt. 

Jason, it seemed, didn’t need him to finish the thought aloud. He leaned forward and placed his head on Dick’s leg. They sat like that for a long time. Both two boys missing a parent who had never wanted them. 

Leoni cleared his throat, and Dick reached forward to squeeze Jason’s shoulder. 

“Does B know you’re here?”

Jason shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell-- I don’t want him to think I don’t--”

Dick nodded. Jason was afraid Bruce wouldn’t understand. “I’ll call him. I can make up something. He won’t be mad at you.”

Jason looked like he wanted to protest but didn’t. Dick reached into his belt and pulled out his phone. The number was so natural to dial. Dick hated it. He hated how his fingers seemed to buzz in anticipation. Bruce answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

Dick swallowed. Bruce’s voice was thick with something, but Dick couldn’t identify it. Maybe time had made him lax, or perhaps he had just never really known how to read the man. 

“Hey. Jason dropped by.” Dick thought his voice sounded disjointed. It certainly felt it. 

“I-- He’s in Bludhaven?” Bruce suddenly sounded like he was breathless.

“Yeah. I asked him to come by. It was my fault. He thought I cleared it with you.” Dick felt the lie drip off his tongue like molasses. 

“I don’t mind.” Bruce’s voice was quiet. “He likes seeing you. I’m glad he’s there.” 

Dick blinked. He didn’t know what to do with this unexpected acceptance. Bruce had hated when  _ he  _ ran off without a word. He had hated when  _ Dick  _ did something, anything to contradict Bruce’s schedule or idea of where Dick should and shouldn’t go. 

“Right.” 

“He’s been very upset.” Bruce said, his voice cracking slightly. “He won’t tell me why. I think-- I think I know, but I hate to guess.”

“Yeah. We can’t have that.” The words were out before Dick could stop them. 

Bruce sounded like he had been stuck. His breath came out in a huff. 

Dick liked the way it sounded. He liked the way he could still hurt him. It was almost like he still had some small amount of caring in him, if Dick’s words and disdain could still find a way through the armed heart of Bruce Wayne. 

“I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do. I can’t have him hear all shift. We’re working some big cases.” Dick felt a bit of pride slip into his voice. “Did you want me to get him a taxi or would you prefer Alfred to get him?”

“I’ll--” Bruce stopped suddenly. “I’ll send Alfred.”

Dick wondered what Bruce had really wanted to say. But rather than challenge him. Dick simply hummed. “ETA?”

“Less than an hour. Maybe 40 minutes.”

“Great.” Dick hung up before he could say anything else. He already felt drained from the short call. “Alfred’s, on his way.” 

Jason looked up finally. “Did he sound mad?”

Dick felt all the anger that had been growing in his chest pop and disperse like gas. “No, He wasn’t mad at all.”

Jason relaxed into the chair. 

“Jason, this is my TO, Officer Leoni.” Dick gestured behind Jason and both Leoni and Jason turned to face each other. “Leoni, this is Jason.”

Leoni leaned forward and reached out to offer Jason his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Dick smiled as Jason’s eyes widened in surprise and accepted Leoni’s hand. “You too.”

“Since we’re going to have to wait for.. Alfred, do you want to help us with some paperwork?”

Leoni opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Jason’s more than enthusiastic yes. 

They spent the next half an hour finishing the list of suspects that Dick had begun digging though that morning. Jason was a huge help in sorting through the security tapes. He had eyes better than a hawk and Leoni was more than impressed. 

By the time Alfred had arrived. Dick was satisfied that he had narrowed down the suspect pool to two. He would look into them more later. 

Rather than talk to Alfred himself, Dick gave Jason a quick hug and said goodbye before Alfred could clear security. Jason, while slightly disappointed, said nothing except a quick “see you Thursday” when Dick sent him out to the front desk by himself. 

Dick was simply too tired to see Alfred. He was feeling… unsettled. The conversation with Bruce had left him unsatisfied and craving more, but at the same time it had been more than he had ever wanted to say or hear from the man. Dick was spent. Leoni, patted him lightly on the back and led the way back to their patrol car. They spent the rest of the day in comfortable silence. 

Dick was really lucky, he decided to have Leoni as his TO. 


	8. Just Past the Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, next week I'm probably going to work on a bingo prompt so here is another chapter. I hope it can hold you over until I get one more bingo done. The end of the year is sneaking up on me and I want to make sure I get them done! 
> 
> As always I LOVE to hear from you all. ❤❤❤

10 single digits: an area code and 8 just for you.

Just 11 buttons: 10 numbers and a too green circle.

That’s all it takes to reach you. 

It’s 10 figures too far.

* * *

Dick slumped into his apartment almost falling face first on the floor. He was freezing. It was the blood loss-- his mind supplied him--rather than the cold of Bludhaven’s February weather. His new stitches stung as he pulled himself upright. His leg would be driving him crazy for a couple of weeks, but he had had worse before. He was lucky really. Nightwing had been much more active then he probably should have been. But if he lit enough fires then _surely_ he would flush Jacaby out somehow. 

He knew his obsession was unhealthy. Both in his day job and his night one. But Dick couldn’t let it go. He and Leoni had hit up corner boy after corner boy trying for any bit of intel. Nightwing had broken into underground poker rings, snatched drug runners off the street and... _politely_ asked them for intel before turning them over the police. He in short had made a name for himself, both as Nightwing and Dick Grayson. A part of him knew it wasn’t safe: the way he was working. 

An even bigger part of him didn’t care. Leoni had shot him nervous glances on occasion, but rarely told him to back down anymore. It seemed his TO had moved from _preventing_ Dick from making it obvious that he was looking for the corrupt Cop who helped Jacaby get off, to damage control. Hess and Leoni were often seen speaking softly in the briefing room before start of shift. Dick knew from the way they stopped when he came in that they were discussing him. 

He made his way to his room stumbling slightly as he went. He was so tired. The pimp who had stabbed him had been lucky. Nightwing hadn’t been one hundred percent focused as it was. His mind had been on Jason. He had texted him again telling him that Willis was still calling the manor. 

Alfred had had to unplug the phone line. Dick was never sure what to say to Jason. He had loved _his_ dad. John Grayson had been quiet and gentle, but somehow he was still more fun than Dick could express. Perhaps it was that it was always slightly surprising when you found he had put toothpaste in your Oreo, or half tucked your sheets. His dad had been quiet but warm. Then he had Bruce. 

With fumbling fingers he connected his phone to his charger. He looked down at his suit and signed. Dick flopped on his bed, too tired to change. He would regret it in the morning when he had to peel the sweat dried fabric from his bandages on his leg. Dick rolled over so that he was looking up at the ceiling. 

Bruce. In hindsight he hadn’t been what Dick thought he was-- what he had hoped-- but he was still good. So Dick didn’t really know what to say to Jason. How could he express anything worthy of the terrier Jason had experienced at his father’s hand? Dick might dislike Bruce. He might be mad at him and want to never see him again. But he could never _hate_ him. 

He stared up at the cracks in the plaster over his bed, imagining pictures into the web of patterns until he was asleep. 

* * *

A loud and obnoxious buzzing filled the room. Dick groaned and rolled over reaching for his phone. The charging cord clattered to the floor as he pulled the phone off the small box that acted as a night table. Dick pried his eyes open and looked at the notification that had so rudely pulled him from his dream. It had been a good one, he thought, although the details were now melting away. He thought it had been about his dad. Something about an apple orchard. Dick wondered if it was perhaps a memory rather than his own imagination. 

The phone screen was far too bright in the dark room and it took Dick a moment for his eyes to adjust to read it. 

_Hey I was wondering if you could meet me early today at the station?_

Dick rubbed his eyes and glanced at the top of the screen, it was only 6 am. He wasn’t scheduled to be in until 10. Dick typed back a quick _‘sure, what time?_ ’ and forced himself to sit up. He hadn’t gotten back to the apartment until after three. But now that he was awake he didn’t feel he could fall back asleep again. 

Dick fumbled into the kitchen, hopping coffee would wake him up better, when the next text came in. 

_ASAP._

Dick frowned. ASAP. Just four little letters, but now his stomach was churning. Was something wrong? Dick cast his mind around to try and think what he could have possibly done to warrant being called in early. He had been off for several days, so it would have to have been something from a while back. Dick’s mind came up blank. 

_Is something wrong?_

Dick watched his screen and waited for the reply, coffee forgotten. 

_No. Not necessarily. Just need to talk. You’re not in trouble, Boot._

Dick put his phone down more confused than ever. What was going on? He flicked his coffee pot on and made a beeline for the shower. It was going to be a long day. 

He got ready in record time. He showered with all the efficiency of Batman, ate so fast he could picture Clark frowning and was carrying his duffle bag with his uniform and equipment to the door before it was even 6:30. It was then that he walked over the thick envelope. 

Dick frowned and looked down at the thick yellow packet on the floor and bent down to snatch it up. It wasn't very thick but it was oddly heavy. He turned it over to look at the return address. The front was blank. Not even his name was scrolled across the paper. Very slowly he pulled the flap of the envelope back. The glue that held it together made odd sucking noises as he pulled it apart. Inside were several documents. Dick carefully slid out the largest. It looked like a note of some kind. 

The page had an odd writing that was disjointed and a mix of capital letters and cursive print. The note made his heart skip a beat. 

_I KNOw WhAT yOU are Doing. STOp Now. This will BE YoUr onLY wArniNG._

Dick swallowed and put the note aside, sliding out the rest of the contents of the envelope. It was a small stack of photographs. Dick took a deep breath and made himself look. If someone had found out about Nightwing he needed to deal with it. Photo after photo depicted him. But none were of Nightwing. He let out the breath he had been holding and began studying them more carefully. Whoever had been following him had done a good job. He never noticed them trailing him-- which was all the more concerning. He had either gotten too confident and needed to pay better attention _or_ they were good. Very good. 

Photos captured Dick shopping, eating out, at the precinct, on patrol with Leoni, and one very unnerving one showed him in Gotham with Jason. Dick put the photos down on the counter and pulled his phone from his pocket. He had the number dialed and ringing before he could think what he was doing. 

“The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please hang up and try again.”

Dick hung up. Right the manor’s line was disconnected. He went to dial Bruce’s cell phone. His heart was pounding. His thumb stopped, hovering over the call button. 

He hit it, then promptly panicked. He smacked the red end call button over and over until the screen went back to his keypad. 

_No. No_. He couldn’t call Bruce. That was… _he_ made a mess and _he_ needed to clean it up for himself. He looked down at the picture of Jason and him eating ice cream. Would Bruce be so mad that Dick put his _real_ son in danger that he wouldn’t let him see Jason anymore? Dick couldn’t risk that. Jason was-- well if he wasn’t really Dick’s family, _he_ at least wanted to spend time with him-- and that was something that seemed rarer and rarer these days. 

Dick jolted as his phone buzzed in his hand. _Bruce_. 

A telling pressure built behind his eyes as he stared down at the name for a long moment. Dick locked the screen, sending him to voicemail. 

The phone began to buzz again. Dick let out a half anguished groan. He turned to send the call to voicemail again. But stopped when he saw that it was not Bruce calling this time, but Leoni.

Dick felt something hot and wet fall down his face. He quickly answered and pressed the phone to his face. 

“Hey.” Dick’s voice sounded wrong to his own ears. 

“Rookie, listen I know it’s early--” Leoni suddenly cut off. “Are you… are you crying?”

Dick blinked furiously, trying to stop the tears that were falling fast down his face. “No- I just--”

“Grayson, what’s wrong?” Leoni sounded tense, the mumbling that had been in the background of the call stopped.

“I got a… I don’t know what. But there’s pictures of me and… I don’t know what--” Dick closed his eyes. He was Nightwing, he was an experienced vigilante. He could join the Justice League whenever he wanted. So why was something so… so dumb making him feel so rattled. He was better than this, tougher than this. A small voice unfurled in the back of his mind and whispered, _you’ve never been threatened as Richard Grayson and been_ alone _._

Sure there had been problems in the past, but that had been more to get something from Bruce. He had never been the target with the purpose of getting to him himself. And all those times he knew Bruce would take care of it-- even if Dick didn’t need him too. 

“Rookie, I need you to take a breath and tell me exactly what happened.” Leoni sounded so calm. His voice was the lifeline Dick craved. 

“I was walking out my door, and there was this envelope. Inside it says… Dick trailed off not sure if he should say it. What if the person who sent it didn’t want him to tell anyone. Dick glanced at the note. It just said to stop. But stop what? Working? What was he doing that was so important that someone needed him to stop doing it. 

“Rookie, did they threaten you?” 

Dick closed his eyes. He wanted so badly for someone, anyone else to fix it. He wanted to let a grown up handle it. But then that was what _he_ was wasn’t it. He was an adult. And that was why he was here, He had aged out of being able to rely on others for help. Suddenly being 18 and all alone seemed the worst thing in the world. 

“Dick. I’m on my way. Just stay inside. Keep the door locked. Me and the Sergeant are coming.”

Dick sank onto his ratty sofa and stared at the envelope until they arrived. 

* * *

The knock on the door was quiet, but Dick thought that might have been the weird underwater sensation that he was currently feeling. The letter was still clutched in his hand. He had read it over and over again. The letters were inked onto ordinary printer paper. The pen was likely a ball point from the way the ink would occasionally have a line of white dry paper in the center of a letter. Whoever had written it was left handed or ambidextrous. Dick couldn’t rule out either. But it was too neat to have been only done by someone who was right handed only. 

Bruce had made Dick practice writing with his left hand for hours. Undercover work was an important part of the gig, and Dick needed to be able to become anyone. Or at least that was what Bruce had told him, when Dick told him repeatedly he was perfectly fine writing with his right hand. 

Dick peeled himself off of the sofa, and walked slowly to the door. His head was moving much faster than his body and it was making him feel like he was wading through mud. 

Sergeant Hess and Leoni were standing nervously on the other side of the door, looking rather pale. 

Dick stepped back to admit them into his small and rather crummy apartment. He suddenly realized he should have made an effort to tidy up some. Alfred would have been so… Dick clamped down on the thought. Alfred didn’t matter. He would never see Dick’s home anyway. 

The dishes weren’t a tower yet and he only had a few socks on the arm of his sofa. The coffee table had a few too many take out trays but other than that, it really wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t the most clean place, but Dick knew he wasn’t so bad. Leoni glanced around but Hess was focused on Dick. 

“What’s happened?” Hess' deep baritone voice was soothing in a way that Dick couldn’t have predicted. It was like the sound waves had pulled his head from a free fall of thoughts and sown it back to his shoulders. 

Dick rather than trusting his voice held out the letter. He had already taken pictures and studied it thoroughly. Hess hesitated only to pull on a pair of rubber gloves. He looked at the note for a long moment, before giving Leoni a furtive glance. 

Leoni now wearing his own medical grade gloves took the letter for himself. He swore colorfully and dramatically pinched his nose. “You really know how to piss them off, kid.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you two telling me?” 

It felt like his heart was hammering in his chest now, an odd pitter patter of drums. 

“Tom Curry was released last night on bail. He umm well he was saying some pretty nasty things in lock up.” Leoni glanced at Hess nervously.

“He’s on bail.” Dick didn’t understand what that had to do with anything. To be honest he had forgotten his ex-TO was even pending charges. 

“Yeah.” Hess gestured to the sofa and Dick sank once more into it. A slightly loose spring was poking his back uncomfortably but he hardly cared. 

“One of my informants, got a hold of me and was saying he had guys on the outside who were following you. And-- Well, he said he was going to get revenge on you for turning him in. for being a snitch and all.” Leoni looked a bit green as he spoke. 

Dick wondered how much he had watered down what Tom had been saying to his ‘friends’ in lock up. “So you think this is from him?” 

Dick was more confused than ever. 

Hess sat down across from him on Dick’s secondhand, easy chair. The leather squeaked horribly as the wool from Hess’ uniform brushed it. “It’s a possibility. I know I told you that me and the Captain thought he wasn’t connected to any networks, but from the sounds of his threats and--” Hess nodded to the photos that were still littering Dick’s counter. “Those photos, he must have someone working with him. There’s no way he could have taken all those by himself. Not when he was just released last night.”

Leoni was now sorting through the pictures on the counter. Dick had honestly forgotten they were there. He had been so focused on the handwriting, the paper and ink. Leoni sucked in a breath suddenly. 

Hess stood up and went to inspect the photos himself. Hess blinked and picked the one of him and Jason up. “Is this your brother?”

Dick glanced at Leoni, but nodded. 

“You might want to give your family some distance. Just until this settles down.” Leoni was looking at him with an odd expression. Dick wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I mean, I only see him once a week and we’re not usually--”

“No, Leoni has a point.” Hess sighed and set the picture down on the counter. “I can call GPD and see about a protective detail for them, but--”

“No!” Dick was suddenly standing again, with no memory of doing it. 

“Grayson?” Hess was looking at him like he was going crazy. 

“I--” Dick was suddenly much too aware of his body. “I don’t want them to know. They’ll just worry.” He could tell the lie was thin by both looks on Leoni and Hess’ faces. But he didn’t care. If word got out here that he was Bruce’s ex-ward then the small life he had built for himself in Bludhaven would all come crashing down around his ears. 

Hess raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I won’t force you to do anything, but I would recommend being more cautious. Perhaps more office work. I could have you transferred to the garage for a couple of--”

“Sir, please. This is what I signed up to do. I knew the risks when I joined. I’m here to work, not hide.” 

Hess seemed to hold in a sigh. His lips pressed together in a think line. “Fine. But I’m pulling the two of you off Major Crimes. You’ll be back on regular patrols and off the Courthouse case.” Hess raised his hand as Dick opened his mouth to protest. “No. I don’t want to hear it. Your job is to protect and serve. My job is to do that and make sure my people don’t get killed doing it.” 

Dick’s mouth snapped shut unable to find a reasonable argument against it. He would at least still be able to work the case as Nightwing. So he had that to keep him going. Leoni was moving again now that they were decided. He pulled several evidence bags out from his uniform’s belt, and began bagging the photos and note. Dick watched him work with eagle eyes. He could have kicked himself for not scanning all the photos before they arrived. He could have looked at security cams to back track and find whoever was following him. He would have to break into lock up as Nightwing and scan them. It wouldn’t be difficult but it was time he could have used to track the person down. 

But then Dick couldn’t have everything, he supposed. 

“Okay, so we’ll need a statement for the report, Boot.” Leoni was pulling out his notepad and a pen. 

“I can just--”

“No, I want this done by the book. You can’t handle your own threats, kid. It’s not just policy but it’s not smart to be involved in your own cases. Trust me.” Leoni said over the pad of paper.

“So walk us through it.” Hess prompted him smoothly. 

“Well--” Dick frowned, not sure where to start. “It must have come with the mail yesterday. Dick nodded to the envelopes on the floor under his letter box that he hadn’t picked up. “But it didn’t have my name or address so… probably not... “

“Grayson, just details. When did you find it?”

“This morning. You texted saying you wanted me to come in early and so I was walking out the door when I stepped on the package. It was really thick so I picked it up. It didn’t have my name or anything on the outside so I thought that was weird.”

“Okay. Then what?” Leoni asked gently. 

“I opened it. I went to the counter and opened it.”

“Did you see the pictures or the letter first.”

Dick thought for a moment. “The note.”

“Okay so you read the note and then looked at the pictures and put them on the counter?” Leoni asked, slowly writing as he spoke. 

“Yes.” 

“Did you do anything else? Did you call someone or tell anyone about it?”

“I--” Dick felt as if the floor dropped out from under him. “I started to call my--” His chest tightened. He had been so close to saying something he hadn’t wanted to call Bruce in so long. “--My old guardian from when I was in the system, but I hung up before he could answer.” Dick felt his ears burn. 

Leoni glanced up from his notes and sent him a pitying look. Hess gave no indication as to if he had caught the near slip up. 

“Anyone else?” Leoni’s voice was quiet, as if he knew Dick was feeling close to breaking down. 

“No. You called me right after and--” Dick moved his arms in a sweeping motion. “Then I waited for you to show up.”

Leoni snapped his notepad shut and nodded. “Okay, I think I’ve got enough for the report.”

Dick nodded and reached for his duffle bag. 

Hess tilted his head. “Oh no. You’re not coming in today.”

Dick bit his tongue in frustration. “Why?”

“You just were sent a threat to both you and your family. You’re off for a mandatory… mental health day.”

“You’ve just made that up.” Dick pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “That’s included in sick days. Which I don’t get for another two months on the job.”

Leoni rolled his eyes. “He has every handbook memorized, sir. It’s like working with a walking encyclopedia.” 

“Well I don’t care if you have no sick leave, this is--”

“Not an on the job incident so it’s not covered under workman’s leave either. So unless you’re saying I have to be off until I can have a mental wellbeing evaluation-- which can take up to two months-- then there is nothing for you to keep me off duty for.” Dick felt rather pleased with himself as he watched Hess and Leoni struggle to find some other excuse to make him take the day off. 

“I’m fine really. I was rattled earlier, to be honest, but I’m okay now. I’ve calmed down. You have a game plan and suspect already so what’s the big deal?” Dick looked up at Hess with a small smile tugging on his lips. 

“Fine.” Hess threw up his arms in defeat. “But you will not go anywhere near major crimes or any other case you’ve developed an interest in. Is that clear? You will be answering calls all shift. No special trips out to Avalon Heights or the Docks or the Hill. If you so much as breathe in that direction you will be chained to your desk.”

“Yes, sir.” Dick bent down to lift his bag once more, before crossing to his door. “After you sir.”


	9. Anywhere to Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wanted to have this up this weekend but I had to delete half of it and rework the whole Jason section. So please pardon the slightly shorter update then usual. 
> 
> As always I love to hear from you, even if it is just to scream at me in anger. I will cherish it.

Is this what they mean by leave no quarter?

You’ve stiped them away one by one.

And now the enemy is bound to come. 

* * *

The phone was much heavier than it should have been. Bruce felt like it would slip from his fingers. He shouldn’t even have this number. He had pulled it from Clark’s phone with some rather invasive hacking. So the name stamped across his screen was no mistake. He had one missed call from Dick. Bruce cursed his slow moving body. He should have been able to answer after only the two short rings it had given before it had stopped all together. 

But it had been a long night. And he had only gotten three hours of sleep, he glanced at the clock to confirm, okay only two hours and forty minutes. 

Bruce thought his heart would jump out of his very chest, looking at the phone. It had been so long since... Before he could think twice he hit the call back button. Each time the calling tone sounded out, Bruce felt his heart stutter. 

What if he was hurt? It was the morning so it would be too early for it to be something Nightwing related. In fact Dick  _ had  _ messaged Batman over the comms system earlier that morning or late last night depending how you looked at it. Nightwing had informed Batman of a possible shipment coming to Gotham that he had discovered during a bust, so Bruce put aside any worry that Nightwing might be hurt, or trapped or.. Or-- the ringing stopped. It had rang a total of four times

“You’ve reached Dick Grayson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you.”

Bruce felt an odd burning behind his eyes. He’d seen him just a few months ago, but to  _ hear  _ him was… how had he forgotten how his voice did that little uptick at the end of a sentence? Bruce swallowed back the emotion bubbling up in his throat. He needed to focus. Dick could be in trouble. Even if it wasn’t Nightwing related. It could be a number of things. He could have gotten in an accident, he could have run out of money and lost his trust fund account card-- not that he had ever used it. He could have been mugged. Bruce’s heart gave a particularly painful squeeze at the thought of Dick being shot and bleeding out in a dirty alley. He could-- A million and one things could have gone wrong. 

Bruce hit the redial button. 

The phone beeped twice before the call ended, Bruce yanked it back from his ear to look at the screen. Bruce pulled up his phone tracing app that connected him to a program on the batcomputer. He put in Dick’s number in record time. 

Line busy. 

Bruce blinked, Dick was on another call. Or at least his phone was. Bruce exhaled. Maybe it had been a pocket dial. 

A mistake. 

An odd ache settled in his stomach. But that was better than Dick being hurt or worse dead or dying. He would rather Dick hate him forever than that. He could endure anything but that. He deserved it. Bruce sat staring at the app. He  _ could  _ tap the call, but Dick would have security in place against that surely. Dick had after all helped Bruce design the program that would allow him to listen into phone calls. 

Bruce sank down onto his bed again. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, his phone now pressed against his forehead. 

“Hey B, I can’t find--”

Bruce stiffened, straightened up and twisted around to face Jason. 

“What’s wrong?” Jason stood still in his pajamas halfway in the doorway. His hair was sticking up at an odd angle at the back. 

“Nothing.” Bruce said hurriedly. “Nothing. What do you need Jason?”

“I can’t find my shampoo. But are you sure--”

“You can use mine for now, but I put it on the list last week, and I’m sure I’ve seen a new bottle.”

Jason was eyeing him suspiciously but merely made his way to his bathroom. He hesitated only for a moment before walking out and back down the hall now armed with the shampoo. 

Bruce glanced down at the phone again. The app showed that the call ended. He should have left a message he realized. That would have been better. He had panicked and hung up to redial before he could think to leave one. 

He threw the phone down on the bed and leaned forward again. The clock said it was just past 6:40. Maybe he could ask Jason on the way to school if he had heard from Dick lately. He knew that Jason had sought Dick out before. It was oddly comforting to see Jason try to reach out to Dick. He didn’t think anything really had come of it, at least not that Jason ever had said. Maybe it would be better not to say anything to Jason after all. He didn’t want to worry him, but Bruce didn’t know a better way to find out if Dick was okay. 

Only Barry would give him updates anymore. Most of the League had… turned a cold shoulder his way anymore. 

Perhaps he would ask Alfred. 

Yeah, that would be the  _ normal  _ thing to do. He shouldn’t try to hack into the traffic cameras near Dick’s apartment. That would be too much, wouldn’t it? 

His knee started to bounce. Bruce stood up and started to pace. He hated this. He hated it so much it hurt. As he was walking he turned and kicked his dresser hard. The whole fixture swayed from the attack. The sparse decorations on the top wobbled and Bruce leapt forward to grab at a picture that lurched dangerously on the edge of the dresser. Bruce’s hand snatched it just as it tipped past the rock back point. 

The picture was old. Bruce felt his chest constrict as he looked at it. His thumb brushed the glass just over Dick’s face. He was just twelve in the photograph. One of his teeth had been chipped from face planting on the diving board earlier that summer. Bruce felt the stinging return to his eyes and a tear fall. 

* * *

Jason watched Bruce warily the rest of the morning. At breakfast he kept glancing at the telephone, but it hadn’t wrung in weeks, not since Alfred had unplugged it. Bruce moved stiffly as he cut his eggs and bacon up into bite sized pieces. But worst of all, he didn’t talk. Jason would have never described his dad as a chatty man, but he could be counted upon in the morning to pepper him with questions about Jason’s plans for the day. 

Today, he looked far too distracted to even ask if Jason wanted the salt. Finally, Jason slipped away to finish getting his things for school. He ran through the mental list he kept of things that made Bruce sad. There were really only two that Jason had noticed a pattern for. Bruce would be sad on birthdays (so far both of Bruce’s parents), holiday’s (due to the lack of his parents and Dick), and other random days that Jason couldn’t pin the date to a particular thing (but he had a feeling, due to finding Bruce looking at photographs and holding old t-shirts, had to do with one Dick Grayson). So it wasn’t hard to guess what had Bruce out of sorts today. 

He would just have to cheer him up, Jason decided. Maybe he could ask if Bruce would take him to the art museum. He wasn’t really fond of it himself, but Bruce loved to tell Jason about the various paintings and statues that his mother had donated over her lifetime to the place. Jason thought they looked rather boring, but Bruce would like it. They still had the south wing of the gallery to cover. 

Jason had a renewed skip to his step as he made his way back down stairs. The noise that greeted him in the hall however was enough to curdle his blood. 

“Alfred, I just wondered if you had heard from him was all.” Bruce’s voice broke and sounded so small. Jason had never heard him sound like this. 

“Well if you want to know about his well being then I suggest you get on the phone yourself.”

Jason froze, his backpack hanging half off his shoulder, around the corner from the kitchen. Alfred spoke with more disdain then Jason thought possible. A chill ran up his spine. 

Bruce swore. “You think I haven’t tried!” 

Jason almost jumped back in shock. Bruce never shouted at Alfred. He never shouted in the manor at all. At least he never had in front of him. A stone settled in Jason’s gut, as if he had just discovered some secret, some hidden thing that he wasn’t meant to find out. 

“He blocked my number the first hour he was gone! I’ve called Clark, Barry, Wally, I’ve even called Oliver! Trying to-- Alfred, I-- I just.” Bruce sounded choked. 

Jason took a half involuntary step forward. Was Bruce crying? Jason had seen him sad, seen him angry and hunting down dangerous criminals, had seen him hurt and scared. But he hadn’t ever seen him cry before. 

“He called and I called him right back, Alfred, I swear I did. He. Didn’t. Answer. What do you want me to do? Beg? Please.” Jason felt something long in his chest. Batman didn’t beg-- but apparently Bruce Wayne did. “Just-- I just want to know if you’ve heard from him.” 

Jason heard Alfred sigh and dishes clink on the countertop. 

“I did see him just before Christmas.”

A small sniff broke the thick silence. Jason pulled out his phone. Dick hadn’t texted him for a couple days, but he had heard from him just last monday. Jason looked at the message nervously. He could walk in there now and show it to Bruce. Maybe that would help ease whatever this pain was that had hit him so suddenly. But then if he showed Bruce-- Jason wondered would Dick stop talking to  _ him _ ?

He had been so upset when he had to talk to Bruce to arrange a ride for him, and they had for the most part kept their meetups under the radar. Bruce of course knew about some of it, but not to the extent that it really was. He didn’t know about how Dick would pick him up every Thursday. He didn’t know they had gone skydiving, he didn’t know about the ice cream or the pizza dinners. 

Alfred had promised not to tell either. And if Alfred had promised not to, then he must have thought Dick wouldn’t want Bruce to know either. Jason slipped the phone back into his pocket. 

He hated having to choose between them. It wasn’t fair. Jason was lost in thought and missed whatever else Alfred might have said about seeing Dick before Christmas. It wasn’t until he heard the sounds of dishes being placed in cupboards that he unfroze. Quickly as quietly as he had come, Jason dashed to the entryway to wait there. He didn’t want Bruce to know he had overheard them. 

Bruce looked even worse than he did at breakfast as he got into the car. Jason cleared his throat. “Bru-- Dad?” Jason tried not to think about the flush he knew was building around his collar. 

Bruce glanced from the road over to him and hummed lightly.

“Are-- Are you okay?” Jason suddenly realized just how dumb he sounded. 

Bruce gripped the wheel tighter and pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. “Dick called me this morning.”

Jason of course already knew this, but rather than admit eavesdropping he simply replied, “oh?”

“He hung up before I could answer.” Bruce’s tone wouldn’t have been out of place at a funeral. Jason frowned and wracked his brain to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t hurt Bruce. 

He drew a blank and so said nothing. 

The drive to school suddenly seemed ages long. After a rather uncomfortable moment Jason asked, “Maybe, Superman would know how he is.”

Bruce seemed to pale slightly at the thought and Jason regretted saying it. 

“I’ll-- I’ll call him when I get to work.”

The silence in the car was heavy. Bruce kept his eyes fixed on the road, and Jason wondered if Bruce was angry with him now. After a moment though, a warm and rough calloused hand dropped onto his. 

Jason squeezed it back.

* * *

Dick spent the day pushing the case to the back of his mind. Not only because it was now starting to get to him, but his day was becoming increasingly demanding as they answered the 12th call that morning. 

So far they had responded to several traffic tips of reckless driving-- only one had warranted a ticket, several reports of suspicious activity-- none had warranted a response, a petty theft call, a traffic accident, and a domestic disturbance call. All of which had given Dick little time to think about the would be stalker that had been following him or the Jacaby case. 

Which Dick suspected was why Hess had pulled him and Leoni from Major Crimes support back to beat patrols. Dick normally wouldn’t mind. This was part of the job he enjoyed. He liked the rush of adrenaline that came with answering calls, He liked spending time on the street talking with people. Case work had  _ some  _ of that, but it was much more removed from the people he was trying to help. Investigations tended to be about catching a criminal whereas on the beat sometimes it was about stopping them. And sometimes if you were really lucky, preventing them. 

“Boot?” Leoni was munching on almonds again. 

Dick hummed his eyes still scanning the road as he drove. 

“You okay?” 

Dick frowned but didn’t immediately answer. He felt okay right now. He hadn’t even been really thinking about it. He hadn’t had time to. 

“It’s just-- I know you’re all gung ho and happy, but It’s okay if you’re not.” Leoni leaned forward to adjust the radio. “We can head in, call it an early day. No one would think less of you.”

Dick felt a lump in his throat form. “I know.”

Leoni sighed. 

“I’m okay. I’ve had--” Dick stopped. He had what? He had had worse? It was true, but it felt wrong to say. He had had  _ different  _ maybe? He had had just as bad, but different. The difference was he didn’t have Bruce right next to him in the thick of it. But then wasn’t that the point of Nightwing, to prove he didn’t need Bruce to be just as good, just as wonderful. He was  _ the  _ boy wonder after all. He was. And Bruce didn’t give that to him, and he couldn’t take it either. 

“Did you tell them?”

Dick felt like a plunger pulled from a seal, he blinked several times in confusion. “Tell who?”

“You’re old foster parents.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.” The words came out more sourly then meant it to. 

Leoni was tapping a beat on his knee. “Okay.”

Dick wished he could zone out, and just watch the world go by for a bit. He wished he were in the Batmobile going a hundred miles an hour. But that wasn’t a possibility, not anymore. 

By the time they returned to the station for the end of shift hand off, Dick was exhausted. He changed slowly in the locker room and shivered as he peeled off the long sleeve white wool top of his uniform. He was drenched with sweat underneath and his now exposed skin shivered as the winter air creeped into the old building. He moved slowly, cleaning himself up and changing into civies again. 

It hadn’t realized it until he was faced with the task itself, but he was dreading going home. A distinct sickening feeling was growing in his stomach and each task he performed that brought him closer to walking out the door of the station made it worse. 

Someone knew where he lived, had tailed him and taken pictures. Someone had threatened him. Someone good enough that Nightwing didn’t even notice. Dick sat down hard on a cold wooden bench bolted to the concrete floor of the locker room. He had had years and years of training, from the very best, and Dick still wasn’t good enough. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. But a slight buzzing in his pocket finally drew him out of his own mind. Dick didn’t even look down at the ID as he swiped to answer it. 

“Hey Dick!” Clarks voice filled the locker room in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. It was like a cloud braking to let sunlight fall on your back, during a rather cold and cloudy day. 

Dick choked on his reply and as suddenly as the warmth had come, it left him.

“Dick?” Clark’s voice now urgent and worried. Dick let the sound fill his ears along with the distant thunk of objects being put down at super speeds. “Dick what’s wrong.”

Dick shook his head even though he knew Clark couldn’t see him. It was too much to say. 

“It’s okay. Dick we’ll figure whatever’s wrong out. I’m-- I’ll be there in five minutes just-- just tell me where you are.” Clark spoke slowly, like he would to a victim in shock. 

Dick gave a long sniff. “I don’t want to go home.”

Dick didn’t realize how much it would hurt to say aloud. Home. He had avoided it for so long. But that’s what it was. It was a small crappy apartment that he could barely afford. It was a no good walk up that didn’t have a working locking mechanism. It had peeling wallpaper, and miss matched furniture. His mattress was second hand and smelled like dogs, but it was his. It was all he had. There was no mom or dad’s house. There was no place to run too. There was Clark’s, Wally’s and Titan Tower, but they had never been home. They were places he visited, friends houses, retreats even, but not--never-- home. 

And now the only place he had left that could occupy that space, didn’t feel safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't guess, yes Bruce called Clark. 
> 
> They were emotional...


	10. Countermoves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How on earth are we at chapter ten? Good gravy this is going to be way more then twelve chapters. But I've cut some subplots and tucked them away for other works in the series so that should help from keeping it from getting too out of hand. 
> 
> As always I love to hear from you! I reread your comments to keep me motivated.

It’s a puppet’s game: there are no knights or rooks, no queens or kings.

We are a suspended apparatus, hanging by a string. 

* * *

“Dick what’s happened?” Clark’s voice was low. Dick wondered if he knew that he did that. That was his _Superman_ voice. When Dick was young Clark didn’t really differentiate between his two identities. It was only after several years of working with both Batman and Bruce that Clark had shifted his mannerisms in cape to be something... different. Dick suspected it was a subconscious choice. 

“I had--” The door to the locker room cracked open and Dick stiffened. 

“Grayson? You still here?” 

Dick relaxed and slumped down on the bench again. Pulling the phone away from his face slightly he called out, “Yeah. One second.”

“Dick what's going on?” Clark sounded like he was in the air. There was the distinct sound of wind whipping about on the other end of the line.

Suddenly Dick felt guilty. His stitches itched, he was tired and he wanted to sleep, but that didn’t matter. Superman had much more important things to do than worry about _him_. Dick was a full fledged vigilante. He had been doing this just as long as Clark had. If Dick couldn’t deal with a single stalker then he shouldn’t be in the business all together. 

Even though his hands shook, Dick forced his voice into something resembling an up beat tone. “I-- well. To be honest I’ve had a crap day and I just…”

“Oh.” The sound of rushing air stopped. “I’m sorry. Do you want to come over?” 

Clark sounded so relieved. Dick felt like a vice grip was pressing his sternum and spine together, leaving no room for air in his lungs. Did he want to come over? _Yes._ He wanted so desperately to run and let someone else handle this. He wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a year. He wanted someone else to figure out his next move, _someone_ to tell him what to do. 

But that would be admitting that Bruce was right, that Dick was too young, and unable to be-- well to be _who_ he wanted to be so badly. 

“No. Sorry. I-- I can't, I've got so much to catch up on. I’m sorry you just caught me at a bad time, and I was…” Dick paused, closing his eyes. “Maybe I can come over this weekend.” He could get himself together by then. He would be ready to lie to Superman if only he just had a couple of days. He knew he looked rather gaunt at the moment. One look at him and Clark would know. 

“You sure?” Clark’s voice was so warm and inviting. It was so tempting.

Dick almost changed his mind. “Yeah. I see you Saturday.” 

Dick hung up before he could change his mind, before he could crack.

Leoni poked his head around the row of lockers opposite him. He was frowning. 

“Grayson.” His voice sounded almost pitying. 

Dick felt himself bristle against his will. “What?” He snapped. 

“Hey.” Leoni held up his hands. “I don’t know who you were talking to, but it sounded like they wanted to help out.”

“It’s none of your business.” Dick stood and began stuffing his things rather aggressively into his duffle bag. 

“Boot.” The nickname was said so softly Dick wondered if he imagined it. “You don’t have to push yourself to do everything alone.”

Dick froze his hand holding a particularly rank sock. 

“Look, I know… I know I shouldn’t have listened, but if you want-- I mean.” Leoni swore. “Look, kid, I’m no good at this mushy stuff, but I’ve got a spare room if you want to crash at my place for a couple of days.”

Dick turned slowly, still holding his sock. “What?”

Leoni sighed and slumped against the lockers causing them to rattle and creak. “I mean it’s no bed and breakfast, but I’ve got beer in the fridge and crappy cable TV.”

“I’m 18.” Dick said automatically. It felt weird to be offered alcohol by an... adultier adult. 

Leoni rolled his eyes, “You got shot the first day I met you. I don’t really care about your age. It’s just-- well if you need somewhere you’re not having to sleep with one eye open...” 

Dick felt his heart hammering against his chest. The words were out of his mouth before he could really consider what he was agreeing to. “Sure. Thank you.”

* * *

He was half way to Leoni’s house when Dick realized he couldn’t go out as Nightwing. He had been planning to do some reconnaissance on the Hill that night just to see if he could shake anything up on a shipment of guns that were meant to be arriving that month, though Dick wasn’t sure when. But as he drove closer to Halyard street, he felt less and less sense of urgency to crack the case. His arms and head were awfully heavy and he felt more tired than normal. The case could wait. Hell, half the city could be burning and Dick would find it hard to gather the motivation to go out. 

As he pulled into an empty space across from Leoni’s house, he glanced around. It was a nice neighborhood. As nice as it got for the working class in Bludhaven, he supposed. The house was a rowhouse made of the old brown stone that seemed to dominate so much of New Jersey buildings. The door was painted a faded yellow. It was chipped and peeling, but something about it made Dick smile. 

He turned his key so that the car died, and slumped back into his seat. Reaching up he rubbed his eyes, attempting to pull some of the exhaustion from him. It didn’t work. He reached back and snatched his duffle bag from the back seat and slowly made his way to the door. 

Leoni had given him a key. _Well_ he had given him his key. Dick let himself in and took in the entryway. The air was warm and inviting, and the place smelled of vanilla. Dick snorted. Leoni was an odd man. 

Studying the home before him, Dick walked slowly in. Pictures of who must be Leoni’s sister lined the hall, along with a few others. Dick paused in front of an old photo of a group of soldiers. They had their arms around each other and were in front of a soft top Humvee. A small inscription was in the bottom left corner. Happy hunting in your new unit, though you’ll always be our Ironsites Lion!

Dick smiled and turned to study the faces of the men in the photo. One of them looked very similar to Leoni. They had the same ears and mouth. Dick thought it must be his father. Tearing himself from the wall of photographs, he made his way deeper into the house. He settled in the living room and put his bag on an old wooden chair in the corner. 

After a quick glance at the clock, Dick began to feel restless. It felt weird to be here when the owner wasn’t present. He had never been to Leoni’s home, and he couldn’t shirk the feeling that he was intruding on something rather private. 

Dick was grateful for Leoni’s offer to not only let him stay but that he had offered to go and get a few of Dick’s things from his apartment. He felt like a coward taking Leoni up on the last part of the offer. It was one thing to stay with someone and lay low, it was another to feel too scared to even go get your toothbrush, a prickly voice at the back of his mind chided him. Caution wasn’t fear. But this… sure felt like fear. 

Leoni had shrugged it off and told him repeatedly “You would do the same for me. It’s not a big deal, kid.”

And he was right, Dick would have done the same. Perhaps that was what was so shocking. He could count on one hand the number of people who he would trust to go get his things for him, and they all knew both sides of him. 

Dick felt an odd urge to _tell_ Leoni. Dick shook his head and sank down onto a worn leather sofa. _No_ . _That would be a horrible idea_. The prickly voice-- that sounded a lot like Bruce’s-- was panicking in the back of his mind, telling him a million and one reasons he couldn’t tell Leoni. 

He hardly knew that man. He was an unknown. Dick didn’t know enough about his past or who he even hung out with outside of work. Leoni could be-- a crime lord, a loose lipped drunk. Hell-- he could have been a struggling artist for all Dick knew. 

While normally this would be enough to deter him from the desire to tell someone about his masked life, this time it didn’t seem enough. He leaned his head back into the cushion and closed his eyes. An ache was forming behind his eyes, and his mind was at war. 

To tell him or not to. 

Bruce would have had a heart attack if he told him what he wanted to do. Clark would have blanched at the idea, too. Wally would… well Dick wasn’t really sure what Wally would say. 

He was lost in thought until the front door opened slowly and a voice called out, “Grayson?”

Dick’s head shot up. He tried his best to shake off the feeling of lethargicness. Quickly he got to his feet and almost tripped on the coffee table. “Yeah! I’m in here.”

Leoni wandered in with another duffle strung over his shoulder. Dick recognized the bag as one from the bottom of his closet. 

“Kid, you could turn on the lights you know?” Leoni strode over and flicked several switches, bathing the room in a yellow glow. 

“Sorry, I--” Dick blinked, not sure what to say. Neither: I was too worried about intruding to think about lights, or I forgot people used them, sounded like a reasonable explanation. 

Leoni chucked. “Here, I’ll show you the guest room.”

The night was quiet. They sat in the living room watching a football game neither of them were interested in. Leoni reclined on an older lazy boy chair eating almonds slowly as the light from the screen reflected on his face. Dick sat with one leg tucked underneath him and did his best to follow the game, despite his wandering mind. Every so often Dick would fight the urge to itch his stitches. It was another thing he hadn’t really thought of when he had agreed to stay at Leoni’s. His bandage would need changing soon, but he would have to make sure not to let Leoni see. 

Despite the secrecy and inconvenience, Dick found himself rather enjoying Leoni’s company. They didn’t talk much over dinner or for most of the evening. In fact most of their exchanges had been polite, passing the peas and thank yous. The silence was… nice. Which he found rather surprising.

Had he been at the Kent's house, Dick would have been peppered with questions about his day, and how he was feeling. Leoni didn’t pry, and Dick found it all too comforting. 

There was a familiarity to it that Dick hadn’t had in so long. It made him feel like he could relax. The light tingling on his skin that had been present for over a year seemed to vanish. Perhaps it should have troubled him that he felt so safe, next to a near stranger. But Leoni didn’t feel like one now. 

It felt like being with Bruce, or at least the Bruce from before.

He bit back a sigh and tried to push Bruce from his thoughts. The day had been long enough without dredging up longing for a man who no longer desired him or his company. 

The game ended and Dick hardly noticed when it changed to the 10 o’clock news. Leoni’s snort of disgust was what pulled Dick back to the room. He refocused on the television and frowned.

“The Bludhaven vigilante Nightwing last week was reported to provide evidence and ‘arrests’ for over 27 cases. The Justice League has yet to confirm Nightwing as a recognized hero under the Hero and Masked Authorization Act that will have past nearly six years ago this coming March.” The reporter smiled at the camera. “However despite the Justice League’s silence on the new vigilante Bludhaven seems to be in bracing it new--”

Leoni clicked the television off. 

Dick blinked, and glanced at his TO surprised. 

“I can’t stand that crap.” He shook his head and set down his now empty bowl of almonds. “I mean, the way government’s turn a blind eye to the League is ridiculous. Nightwing’s lucky Redhorn hasn’t put a shoot on sight order on him yet.”

Dick hoped he looked calm, but a strange fear and sadness was forming in his chest. He fought to keep his voice level. “Why would you say that?” 

“Heroes, get good people killed, kid.” Leoni said it was such conviction Dick found himself almost questioning Nightwing himself.

“I don’t know. I grew up in Gotham and Batman and Robin di-- do a lot of good.” Dick said slowly. 

“They do just as much damage.” Leoni raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you were a fan? You walked out when Kerry was talking about meeting Batman that one time.”

Dick shrugged, unsure how to explain it wasn’t the mask he hadn’t wanted to hear about but the man underneath. “You hear one Batman story, you’ve heard them all.” 

Leoni tilted his head slightly but didn’t say anymore. 

Dick sat feeling all the anxieties that had melted away return in full force. The desire to tell Leoni had evaporated as quickly as it had come. How would the man react if he hated vigilantes so much? Would he arrest him? The feeling of loneliness that he had been fighting off all day returned and felt heavier than it had before.

* * *

Dick woke feeling wrong. His eyes shot open and it took him a full thirty seconds to recognize the odd print of the wallpaper before him. He pinched his nose and swung his legs out of bed, a sharp pain shot through his thigh. Dick hissed and bit his lip to keep from crying out. Carefully he reached down and peaked under the bandage. The stitches were still holding and the skin looked clean and uniritated. He must have just moved too fast. He was just retaping the gauze down when his phone buzzed on the bedside table next to him. 

He pulled it from the cord and glanced at the screen. 

Jason. 

A heaviness landed in his chest. Taking a deep breath Dick answered.

“Hey!” The forced pep in his voice sounded horribly fake. 

“Dick?” Jason whispered.

Dick could feel his heart speed up. “Yeah, what’s up?” 

“I-- I just-- you didn’t call yesterday.” 

Dick sagged back onto the bed, and closed his eyes. _Had he promised to call?_ He honestly couldn’t remember. He wasn’t even really sure what day of the week it was. “Sorry. I’ve had a really busy week.”

Jason hummed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I-- I don’t really want to get into it.” Dick felt as if the weight was suddenly gathering on his chest again. He wanted to go back to sleep and pretend none of it was real, that if he just closed his eyes, all his problems would go away.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jason was quiet for a long time.

Dick felt guilt overtake exhaustion. “How are you?”

“Err. I’m okay. Bruce had to leave this morning for France. Something about a new business deal, so it’s pretty boring. But I got a new book yesterday so that was cool.”

Dick felt slightly dizzy. Jason never noticed that it upset him to hear about Bruce so casually. But it wasn’t his fault. Jason _should_ be able to talk about Bruce. He was his father, his parent. “What book did you get?”

Dick didn’t really hear whatever it was Jason replied. He was far too busy focusing on killing the discomfort in his chest. 

“So anyway I was wondering if you could maybe help out with the bust. Bruce won’t let me go with Barbara, but he would definitely let me go if you went. _And_ I’ve been doing most of the leg work for it.”

Dick started. “Wait what?”

“Tomorrow. The drug…” Jason gasped and a slapping sound filled Dick’s ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

Now Dick was more confused. He really shouldn’t have zoned out. “Jason?”

“I forgot that you-- I mean can we talk?”

“Talk?” Dick was too tired to follow the conversation. Then it hit him. Jason was asking if _Nightwing_ could help. “Oh yeah. We’re good.”

Dick wasn’t too worried about his phone being tapped, He took it apart every day to check for bugs, and he had instilled a sweeper program on it. 

“We are?” Jason’s voice was so small.

“Sorry, Jay. I was just distracted. What do you need me to do?”

“Well, I was just thinking if you came and helped Barbara with the bust tomorrow then Bruce would let me go too.” 

Dick thought that was rather wishful thinking on Jason’s part. “That’s up to Bruce. If he says yes, then I’ll be there...” Dick hesitated, “but you’ll have to talk to him.” 

He knew that was rather cowardly of him, but the idea of talking to Bruce right now even Batman was too much. Bruce would take one look at him and _know_ that Dick was messing up. He would see it. Even if it was just a phone call, Dick knew Bruce would be able to hear it in his voice. Dick couldn’t take that. It was enough to be told _once_ by Bruce that he wasn’t good enough. It was another to have it confirmed, by the man seeing his failure. 

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.” Jason began rattling off apologies.

“Jason. Hey it’s --”

“Of course I didn’t mean that you would have to tal--”

“Jason. Stop.”

Dick could almost hear Jason’s teeth snap shut.

“I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything. I didn’t mean to make you think that. I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. Can you-- Err-- can you send the details to the Nest. You said tomorrow night right?” Dick glanced at the clock. He had to get ready for his shift. He could hear Leoni moving around the house now. 

“Yeah, I’ll ask him now and then send everything over.”

“Great. I’ve got to get ready for work. But, even if he says no. I’ll still see you Thursday yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jason sounded so bright, that for a moment Dick forgot there was reason for him to cancel his plans with Jason. 

Jason hung up before Dick could change his mind. He would just have to lay low, with Jason, practice some surveillance slipping skills. Dick put his phone down and leaned forward putting his head in his hands. 

He needed to have a game plan. He needed to try harder. 

Dick exhaled slowly. He needed to get this stalker thing taken care of today. But how? He couldn’t stay at Leoni’s house long term. He could move, he supposed, but that wouldn’t be a quick solution. The longer he was here the longer he couldn’t be Nightwing. 

The solution was ugly. Dick felt bile crawl up his throat. He had to stop digging. Dick Grayson needed to let the water settle. _Nightwing_ of course could still be actively working the case, but he would have to take extra measures there as well. No longer would he be able to crawl in the windows at night. He would have to revamp his security, detail better escape routes, and figure out multiple ways to get between his home and the Nest. In fact he would have to stop operating out of his apartment at all. 

But that was the only solution he could see, to not only keep Jason safe, but keep the case moving forward. Dick flipped open his phone. Normally he would call Lucius Fox to help him upgrade his security system, but he hadn’t spoken to the man in over a year. Dick frowned, looking at the list of names on his phone. 

Allen. Barry did some work with Star Labs on a government contracted security system a year back, maybe he could help Dick upgrade his system to something… not made from a broken laptop, baby monitors, and an old Soviet scanner. Dick smiled. It would be nice to have help making his equipment for once. Clark was good at helping him build stuff, but designs were often more complex then he was comfortable. 

Dick tapped on the name and watched the phone pull up a picture of Barry and Wally from a picnic years ago, as it began to ring. He could get this sorted. He could fix this without Bruce or his company’s help. 


	11. The Consequence of Heavy Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter has been an absolute nightmare to write. I tried skipping it, but then it felt to choppy, I tried it in three different ways, I tried expanding on the plot more, I cut the plot out, and I put it back again. In short, it very much didn't want to be written. But It is here. Forgive me?
> 
> Second of all. I love to hear from you. I read and reread every comment like ten times before I reply. I treasure them all. They make me smile, so thank you.

What is the tragedy:

That is was all a sham,

Or that I thought it was ever real?

* * *

“So this will make sure you get an alert if someone opens any of these” Barry gestured to the windows and door, “--while you’re out. And This will record anything in the living room and hallway.”

“Okay and this is the disarm, key?” Dick looked at the complex array of buttons and switches before him trying to remember everything that Barry had told him. 

“Yeah. Here, this is the manual, and this is a list of things I modified that weren’t on the standard pack.” Barry glanced around the apartment again. 

Dick wondered if the frown on his face was more in judgement of Dick’s apartment’s shabbiness or just directed to the reason for the visit itself. 

“You sure you don’t need anything else? If you’re worried about the area we can talk to Bruc--”

“No!” Dick flushed, “I-- I mean… No. I don’t want that.”

Barry gave him a funny look. His mouth was pursed as if he were sucking on a partially sour lemon. 

“I just didn’t want to work out of the apartment when it wasn’t secured.” The lie tasted like acid on his tongue. “Please don’t-- Don’t tell Bruce. It’s not his problem.”

A warm hand clapped him on the shoulder and Dick stilled. Barry had been in Dick’s life for so long. And while they were friendly, they had never been particularly close. Most of their interactions had been through Wally and now that he was retired and out of the game-- well they rarely spoke anymore. Dick’s call had most likely seemed out of the blue. 

“I-- If you don’t want me too. But Dick,” Barry glanced around. “He misses you. I know you don’t want to hear this, but he  _ does _ . He asks about you all the time at meetings. He calls all of us, just to see if we’ve seen you lately, talked to you.”

Dick felt ice seep into his shoulder as if Barry had gained ice powers and was slowly freezing him from the inside out. 

“Stop.” 

“Dick, I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t believe it to be the absolute truth, but he knows how bad he messed up and--”

“Stop!” Dick fell back from the man, and smacked into the wall behind him. 

Barry took a half step forward, his eyes wide and panicked. “Dick-- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Get out.” The ice had left him, and was replaced by a white hot flame. His skin itched as if it had been rubbed raw and left to bleed. 

“Dick.” Barry put up his hands and spoke softly. 

“Go.” Dick fought to pull in the anger and hurt. He couldn’t shout. It would only make him feel worse. Barry wasn’t at fault. He had just fallen for the lie that he too had once believed. That made it feel all the more painful. “Please… I can’t, just…  _ please  _ go.”

He felt trapped with his back pressed against the wall and Barry in front of him. The urge to move, to attack was almost overpowering.

“Okay.” Barry backed up, his hands still raised. He moved so slowly, Dick wondered if it pained him. “Dick. I meant it when I told you I wouldn’t tell him. I won’t.” 

Dick watched him pack his bag of tools, still pressed against the wall. It was like watching a movie on fast forward. His eyes only caught half the movements. 

Barry was stepping out the door, before he was began moving at human speeds again. “Dick, You can call me if you need  _ anything  _ else. I give you my word it will stay between us.”

Dick didn’t even have time to process what he had said before he was gone. 

Dick stood rooted to the spot until the sun sank past the skyline. His phone buzzed and pulled him from his thoughts as suddenly and effectively as a bucket of ice water. 

He plucked his phone from the counter, and glanced at the screen. Jason. Dick sighed and opened the notification. 

“We still on for later?” 

Dick felt drained. He had just gotten back to his house after two days of living in Leoni’s guest room. He hadn’t patrolled Bludhaven last night, and he hadn’t patrolled it on Friday night either, because he had hung out with Wally and Roy. Three nights this week would be too many. Criminals would be getting more comfortable as reports of him were very conspicuously absent from the news. He should deal with that. He had several open cases to crack, he needed to find whoever was stalking him. He needed to work on tracking down a shipment of guns, he had  _ too  _ much to do. But he’d promised. 

“Yeah. See you soon.” Dick hit send before he could change his mind. 

He hit the back button on his texting app and looked at the list of names. He quickly clicked on Leoni and hit call. 

“This is Leoni.” 

Dick smirked. “Hey I just wanted to let you know the new security system is up and working, so I’m going to stick with sleeping here tonight.” 

“Boot?” Leoni sounded muffled. “You sure? I really don’t mind you crashing at my place. Makes it seem less empty, you know?”

“Yeah. I--” Dick looked around at the place, at the peeling wallpaper, at the chair that leaned slightly to the left from years of wear, the counters that had dents and cut marks on them. “I need to or I’ll never feel comfortable here again.”

Leoni was silent for a long time. “Okay. But you call me if you need anything okay?”

“Yeah.” Dick wondered when he stopped feeling guilty telling lies.

* * *

Barbara stood with one foot perched on a small wall that lined the edge of the roof. Dick felt his heart constrict seeing her. Her cape whipped around her in the wind, and her hair seemed to mix with it. 

It was so strange to be back. Though he had been in Gotham, he hadn’t come back at night. And he had never been here as Nightwing. The roof looked the same and the air was just as rank as it had ever been. The only thing that was different, that had  _ changed  _ was him. He was no longer part of the city. He was hardly welcome here. Dick couldn’t believe it when Jason had called and told him Bruce had agreed for Nightwing to back up Batgirl and watch Robin for the night. 

The man hadn’t trusted him to watch his own back but he would let him work with his son. It was  _ strange _ . But then, Bruce never was predictable. He never drove the same way twice in a row, until he did. He always changed his security codes and habits to make targeting him more difficult. He would make you feel comfortable, and safe then pull the rug from under your feet. 

Dick had thought he understood the man... until it was  _ very  _ apparent that it had all been one big lie. Bruce Wayne was an enigma worse than any puzzle set by the Riddler. 

His throat felt tight. 

“Hey.” He finally forced his mouth to move. The sooner this was done the soon he could leave. 

Barbara jumped slightly. 

“Ro--Nightwing!” 

Dick felt his expression freeze on his face. He plastered on his best grin. “So I heard you needed some back up?” 

Barbara smiled, and Dick felt his knees wobble a bit. He had missed her. 

“Yeah.” She turned, “It’s a two man job really. Batman was supposed to help but…”

Dick nodded. He didn’t need a blow by blow of how they were now a team… without him. 

They stood silently for a moment just taking in each other. It was so disconcerting to see her. While they had talked  _ some  _ since he’d left Gotham, it had been sparingly and mostly confined to holiday greetings. 

“It’s good to see you Boy Wonder. It’s been too long.” Barbara sank down onto the wall behind her and tilted her head. “The new digs suit you.” 

Dick stiffened at the reminder of what he had lost, and who he had had to become. 

“We’ve missed having you.”

Dick felt his jaw drop without his permission. “We’ve missed-- Don’t you--” Dick swore colorfully.

The smile melted off Barbara’s face. “That’s not what--”

“Well it’s not like you ever came to see me.” A hurt and angry monster rose in his gut. “You-- you!” 

Dick didn’t know just what Barbara was. She had stayed, while he had been forced from his home… again. 

“What did you want me to do, Dick?” She spoke so quietly. 

“Hell if I know!” He shouted back. “Something! Anything! Did you even care?”

“Of course I cared!” Barbara was standing now, the distance quickly closing between them. “Do you think I didn’t ask about you? Yell at him for being-- being so, so--” 

She was inches from his face, and Dick couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t realized just how much he was angry with her for staying, when he couldn’t. He knew it wasn’t far. Gotham had been her home for longer than it had been his. She had just as much, if not a larger, claim to it. It wasn’t fair to expect her to act on his behalf. But it still felt so blindly painful to see her, bat on her chest and cowl on her head. 

He stumbled back. Barbara’s jaw snapped shut and her arm shot out. 

“--Dick?”

“You didn’t call.” Dick couldn’t look at her. He fixed his eyes on a chimney stack attached to a plastic factory nearest them. “I-- No one did.”

Barbara’s hand fell just short of his arm. “I didn’t know what to say.”

Dick snorted. No one had. But Wally had tried,  _ Clark  _ had tried. But then that was it. No one else had reached out. Dick was sure Wally had called Roy and chewed him and half the Titans out, but Dick would never know. What he did know for certain was Babs hadn’t so much as texted him for weeks, and even then it had only been her mass Christmas greeting that went to nearly everyone in her phone. 

“You didn’t have to  _ say  _ anything.” Dick said finally. 

Barbara stiffened. “I--”

“Nightwing!”

Barbara closed her mouth and spun at the sound of Jason’s voice. The monster in Dick’s gut, quieted. He couldn’t ruin this for Jason. 

Dick turned and spotted Jason barreling at him. He was a mass of red, green and yellow. He stiffened, bracing for an impact that never came. Robin skidded to a stop just feet from him. Jason reached up and pushed his hair back out of his eyes. His cheeks were red and flushed. 

“Nightwing!” Jason said again breathlessly. “You-- Thanks for coming.”

“Littlewing.” Dick nodded at him stiffly. His body still felt like a wire pulled tight. His heart was still racing from the argument with Barbara and now seeing Robin and Batgirl on the same roof-- it felt like he was on fire. The fact he was no longer part of that team made his blood curdle in his veins. 

Batman and Robin might have been the team he was cast out with, but it had come with losing Babs too. 

He had felt the loss of his friendship with Barbara of course, but this was something different. Robin and Batgirl had been… Dick wanted to be sick. His head was spinning. He exhaled slowly so as not to draw attention to his sudden nausea. Jason didn’t need to know. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t even Barbara’s, though she was due some blame and anger. Dick felt his jaw tighten and his teeth grinding. 

Here was just another thing Bruce had taken from him. He hated it. Hated him. At least he so desperately wanted to. 

Jason shifted from one foot to the other, watching Dick carefully. Dick slowly forced his body to relax. His mind and heart were still waging war, but he would keep that to himself. Jason didn’t deserve the pain that was fighting to make itself known. Even if Dick wanted very much in that moment to rip the R, from his chest, Dick knew that he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. He needed to get out of here. He needed to move, to hit something. 

“Shall we, then?”

If Barbara and Jason felt his mood shift, they didn’t show it. 

“Sure.” Barbara turned and stepped back towards them. “So this is how it’s going to go down.”

* * *

Dick made his way into the office building slowly, he wasn’t here to be seen or heard. He just needed to snatch the evidence while Batgirl disabled the security. Jason was outside as backup in case anything went wrong. 

The offices looked rather boring Dick thought. Whoever was in charge of decorating should be fired. The walls were a sickly green color and the pictures that dorned them wouldn’t have looked out of place at a shut in's estate sale. 

Dick crept along the hallway quickly. Two doors and then take a right. Then six doors and a left. He would have to take the second door on the northside of the hall. That was the CFO’s office. Dick hopped-- well  _ Barbara  _ hopped the intel would be accessible from his desktop. Dick made it to the second turn before he heard footsteps. He froze for half a second before throwing himself through a random door to his right. 

He quickly and silently closed the door behind him and pressed his ear to it. 

Dick stood his hand half way on a doorknob the other around the hilt of one of his escrima sticks. 

“Do you think it’ll be a problem?” A man with a deep voice asked. 

Dick tilted his head. He had skimmed the files Jason sent him but between Barry helping him revamp his home security and Leoni hovering around him, Dick hadn't had much time to sneak away to read the reports. He knew he was getting files for something Jason had been working on for weeks, He knew the files were going to be heavily encrypted and would have something to do with the corruption of a city councilman, but he couldn’t remember much else. 

“No, no. I was talking to Tad and he thinks the problem’s been handled.” Another voice joined the first. 

Dick frowned. He would make a note of what he heard, but it was a Gotham problem. Dick hated the way  _ that  _ thought sat in his mind like acid. 

Once the voices and footsteps died down, Dick slipped back into the hallway and towards the office. Gathering the data was easier than he had expected, but then with Barbara interfering with the security programs and controlling the network from almost the second he accessed the computer it was to be expected. 

Dick slid out of the same window he had used to break, and he was greeted by a rather cold wind now. 

Smoke from nearby factories mixed and mingled with the clouds causing the city to look more over cast then it naturally was. Dick found Robin right where he was supposed to be. Bruce had really outdone himself and picked the perfect kid. 

“Nightwing? Did you get it?” Jason danced with excitement as he jumped up from where he had been sitting watching and waiting for a call for backup.

“Yeah.” Dick tossed a small pen drive to him with a smile. “It wasn’t too bad. Just a couple security guards wandering around.” Dick stiffened when a caped figure swooped down next to him from a neighboring rooftop. 

“Well that went well I thought.” Barbara ghosted her way across the roof so that she was next to them. She seemed to radiate heat, though Dick knew that was more his discomfort.

“So. After mission milkshakes?” Jason looked back and forth between the two expectantly. 

Dick felt his heart drop. It was like suddenly the ground had opened up and swallowed him whole. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. There was a pressure building quickly at the back of his eyes. That had been  _ their  _ thing. Not even Batman was allowed to join Batgirl and Robin on their legendary shake runs. 

“Err… How about we skip tonight, Robin.” Barbara’s gaze burned like a poker. 

Jason deflated slightly. “Why? It’s not even that late yet?”

Dick felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth with peanut butter. 

“Yeah, but Alfred said you needed to go home right after the mission, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not getting on his bad side.” Barbara soothed. 

Dick hardly noticed Jason huff, or wish them goodnight. Dick wasn’t sure if he had said anything back. He was far too preoccupied fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill. He really hadn’t meant  _ anything  _ after all. 

“Dick.”

His head snapped up. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Barbara had sunk down on an old electoral box. 

Dick’s eyes widened beneath his mask. “Like what, Barbara? Like I thought we were friends-- best friends and then you never so much as called? And this? That was our--” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. Dick hissed in disgust. How could he have ever fooled himself into thinking he had meant anything to Barbara, to Bruce or even this city. 

“We were! Then you vanished. I did call you! Or I tried to, but you left town so fast you didn’t even take your phone. I had to  _ hack  _ into the Justice League server to get Superman’s phone number. And by then you were gone for over a month.” Barbara put her head in her hands, her gloved palms pressed to her eyes. “What was I supposed to say? Hi, Dick. It took almost six weeks of trying to get your new number, but I’m sorry you got shot and kicked out of your home?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what you say.” Dick uncurled his fist. He wanted to hit the antenna array mounted near him, but knew it would do him no good. 

“Dick.”

“What?” He shouted no longer caring who heard them. 

Barbara stood up and stepped toward him. “I’m sorry. It took weeks to get your number and I chickened out. I’m sorry you got shot and kicked out of your home. I’m sorry-- I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend, when you needed me. But--”

Dick felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. 

“I will spend the rest of my life doing my best to never let you down again and trying to earn back your friendship.”

Dick blinked. 

It was as if all the sound of the city had turned off. Perhaps he had gone deaf from shock. Dick didn’t know if that was possible. 

Barbara stopped just feet from him. Her eyes were wide and such a vivid green. She looked sad. Dick felt all the anger leave him, as if a dam had broken. 

Suddenly a train horn blared from the nearby rail yard and the spell of silence was broken. 

“I’ve got to go.” He turned slowly away from her, his friend of so long. 

“We never go to Mikes.” Barbara blurted. 

Dick froze. Milkshake Mikes was the best joint in town to get a late night shake. It was the only place to get one really. 

“I-- I couldn't do it. I know that doesn’t-- I just wanted you to know.” 

She never took Jason to the best place for milkshakes, she never took him to-- Dick felt like his head was spinning. 

A sniffling sound drew him out of his reverie. Slowly and cautiously he turned. Barbara was crying. 

“I don’t… forgive you.” Dick said slowly, his eyes fixed on a small pebble by her boot. 

Barbara bit back a sob. 

“But… I’ll try to.”

A tear fell on her boot. Dick felt his chest tighten. 

Another train horn blasted, nearby. “You know,” Dick said, his voice wavering slightly. It’s been a really long time since I rode the L train.”

He risked a glance at her face. She gave him a rather watery smile. 


	12. A Graceless Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty a couple things before we get started.  
> 1) Remember when I thought that this would be 12ish chapters. Lets all laugh together.  
> 2) some WARNINGS for this chapter include ALCOHOL, very vague implied TORTURE (not of a main character), and a VOMIT mention. It's all very non descript, but this has been your heads up.  
> 3) As always I hope you enjoy and I love to hear from you.

“It’s a shame” the wind whispered to the sun.

The sun just shrugged, “Wax can only hold you up for so long.”

* * *

Avalon Heights seemed colder then most of Bludhaven. Despite the fact that it was one of the most inward parts of the city, the sea air always seemed to cut through Dick’s clothing. It never mattered how many layers he wore. Dick crouched on the lip of an old balcony. There was little foot traffic on the streets below. A late snow was falling leaving a white-gray haze over the city. Several blocks away, Dick could see the bell tower of St. Anthonio’s lite up. The lights illuminated the snow as it fell, like mystical falling stars that melted into the dirty world below. 

Dick rubbed his hands together, hoping the friction would keep them warm. It didn’t do much good. While Dick was rather proud of his suit, it wasn’t anywhere near what he had had access to as Robin. The Titans had some good contacts and Superman had even offered to see if he could get leather treated off-world for him to use, but Dick felt a strange need to do it himself. He had hunted down fabric distributors, military grade armor, and had designed his suit using only what he could afford. In short his garb was… decent, but it was nothing to what Robin’s masterfully engineered uniform had become. 

He had designed and built all of his own gear, and if his wingdings flew slightly wobbly or his grapple gun stuck after a few too many uses, then it was just a small obstacle to overcome. 

So Dick was cold. He had been cold before. It was small. It was inconvenient. But it wasn’t as if he would freeze to death. Dick slumped against the cold brownstone he was perched on. The month had been full of more and more dead ends. Dick was sure the city was mocking him. It seemed like a countdown. Like every day that this case sat open was a day Dick had failed. He had completely changed his habits and dropped the case as Dick Grayson. He kept his head down at work, despite feeling like his skin was crawling half the time. In fact he was a rather boring beat cop, or at least he was during the day. Nightwing had hunted lead after lead and watched every trail go cold. Jacaby was going to get away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Leoni had told him over and over, that it wasn’t his fault, and that he was doing the right thing-- not that he knew Dick was still looking into the case-- but it felt so empty. Perhaps it was that part of him wondered: what Bruce would think? Would Bruce be disappointed? Or would it have been just an expected failure? 

Bruce would have cracked it; he was sure. Batman always got his man. Dick’s hair grew powder white, as snow began to collect on his head. He slowly peeled himself away from the wall and leapt into the open air. The drop was short and did nothing to relieve the feeling of being trapped. He shot his grapple gun and pulled himself higher. This fall was longer, but the up swing didn’t give him the familiar rush that, over the years, he had begun to crave. He landed on the lip of a tall apartment complex and rolled to a stop. The roof was icy and slick. Dick stretched looking at the docks just a few blocks south of him. 

He had scoured them for weeks, and had found nothing. Sure he’d made plenty of _other_ busts, but it wasn’t the one he wanted, _needed_. 

“Nightwing?” A very small voice broke the silence of the serene March night.

Dick spun around, his hand hovering over his stash of Wingdings. A small boy, no more than eleven, was sitting on an overturned five gallon bucket near a propped open door. Dick’s whole body relaxed. 

“Hey.” Dick plastered on his biggest and brightest smile. “What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”

“I wanted to see the snow.” The little boy was staring at him with eyes so wide Dick wondered if they would fall out. 

“Yeah.” Dick made his way over towards the boy and his bucket, stopping several feet away. He didn’t want to scare him. “Snow’s pretty at night. But it’s still pretty late to be out by yourself.” 

The boy ducked his head and pulled his jacket tighter. 

“Do your parents know you’re up here?” Dick pulled his eyes away from the boy, he had started squirming. 

It really was a nice view. The docks didn’t look as mangled and dirty up here. The rust from the buildings seemed to reflect like flakes of gold in the abnormally calm waters where boats large and small were moored. 

“No.” The boy shook his head slowly, relaxing slightly after Nightwing had turned his gaze away. “They-- Dad works late and mom…”

Dick pulled his eyes away from the water to take in the boy beside him. But he kept his chin angled to the water still, and the boy didn’t seem to notice that he was being studied. His hair was so fair it was almost white. The snow gathering on his bangs and hat made it look as if he had a sort of halo. 

“What are _you_ doing out here?” The boy looked around excitedly. “Are you chasing a criminal?”

Dick frowned at the deflection but didn’t say anything. He shook his head and glanced around the roof. There was nothing beside the boy and his bucket. He was-- at least-- rather bundled up. He wore what looked like a coat several sizes too big for him, a large woolen hat and thick knit gloves. 

“No, it’s been a slow night. I think all the criminals have gone to bed.” Dick folded his arms and tucked his fingers into his armpits. It was freezing out. He hoped the boy would be ready to go back inside soon, so _he_ could go home and curl under at least a dozen blankets. 

“Oh. That’s too bad.” The boy was still looking at him as if Dick might disappear into thin air. 

Dick snorted. “I don’t know. It’s not so bad when it’s quiet.”

“Dad says working nights is boring, but being Nightwing’s not boring is it?”

“Best job in the world.” 

The boy’s smile was infectious. Dick couldn’t help but grin back. 

“So why are you really up so late?” Dick forced his arms to unfold despite the cold. He knew it was rather intimidating to see a superhero stand over you with their arms crossed. There were plenty of times Batman had done just that when he had been cross, and made Dick want to shrink as a child. 

The boy shrugged.

“What does your dad do?” Dick could feel his heart mentally prepare itself for hearing the worst. His dad was a dealer, a gangster, or a member of the mob. 

“He works down at the docks for security.” The boy’s eyes glanced at the harbor that was visible behind Dick. 

Dick wanted to hit himself. He was only 18 and here he was ready to hear the worst. When had he lost his faith in the goodness of people. 

“Does he always work nights?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, since mom--”

“Mom’s gone?” Dick crossed the roof and sank down next to him. 

“Yeah.”

“Mine too.” Dick said quietly.

“You don’t have a mom?” The little boy turned to look at him so fast, Dick hoped he hadn’t hurt his neck.

“Nah.” Dick leaned back and let his weight fall on his hands. The concrete was freezing, even through his gloves. “No dad, either.”

The boy’s mouth fell open. “But-- Who…” The boy stammered slightly. “I can share.”

Dick blinked. “Wh--”

“My dad’s not the best, sometimes he gets sad and says mean things, but I don’t mind sharing.” The boy was leaning forward so far, the bucket was starting to tip.

“Oh.” Dick wasn’t sure what to say. There was an odd lump that had formed behind his sternum. “I-- Thank you, that is really nice of you. But I think that might make it hard for you both. Me being Nightwing and all.”

“Don’t you want a dad?” 

The question was so innocent and filled with wonder that Dick almost lost it right then and there and cried. Maybe it was the snow and that he was feeling cold and tired after over a month of no new leads. Maybe it was that it was his birthday in a couple weeks. Or maybe it was just that fact that the boy had asked him so earnestly, that Dick suddenly realized that he did-- very much . The boy was still looking at him with those wide brown eyes. 

“I had... a really good dad.” Dick said slowly. “I don’t-- I don’t think I can… Would you want a new mom?” 

The boy looked at him in shock. “No! My mom was so cool. she-- she used to read to me before bed and make me Nutella sandwiches.”

Dick nodded. “Yeah. It’s like that.”

They sat next to each other for a long time, just watching the snow fall. 

Finally the boy frowned and sat back on his bucket. “My mom died two years ago.”

Dick sighed and scooted closer so that he was now leaning slightly against the boy’s legs. He was shivering. Dick wasn’t sure how much body heat he was giving off, but the boy seemed to still slightly as Dick drew closer.

“When did-- when did--”

The sentence was out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “About a year and a half ago.”

Something colder than the weather ran through his chest. His shoulder gave a sharp stab of pain, and Dick saw the flash of a gun. He blinked. The Joker wasn’t there. There was no bullet buried in his shoulder. No Batman to tell him to leave. 

“Nightwing?” The boy whispered. 

Dick blinked and found his lenses clouded with moisture. 

“Is he why you became Nightwing?” 

Dick chuckled darkly. “Yeah. He is.” 

The boy sighed and patted Dick on the shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry.”

Dick gave the boy a watery smile. “Me too.” 

They sat like that for a long time, just watching the snow gather on the city below. Finally Dick stood and pulled the boy to his feet. “I think it’s time to head in.”

The boy nodded and glanced around. “Do-- I mean if you have time and-- Never mind.”

Dick raised an eyebrow slightly, and tilted his head. “I’ve got nowhere to be for a bit.”

“Could you-- It’s hard to sleep when my dad’s not home.”

Understanding dawned, and Dick smiled. “How about I tuck you in?”

The boy turned beat red. “I’m not a baby.”

Dick laughed. “You know Superman?”

The boy’s eyes got even wider, Dick was starting to question if he was a meta human; there was no way that was natural. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll tell you a secret-- as long as you promise not to tell anyone else.”

The boy was nodding so fast, snow was falling from his hair.

“Sometimes, Superman tucks me in, when I’m sick or hurt.”

The boy’s jaw dropped. “He does?”

“Yep.” Dick popped the p slightly. 

“I-- I mean I guess it would be okay than.”

Dick bit back a laugh and followed him inside.

The boy was asleep within minutes of Dick reading some random book from his shelf. He smiled and pulled a particularly wobbly wingding from his belt. He slid it in between the pages of the book and set it on the nightstand. As an afterthought he snatched up a pen and scribbled on a scrap of paper. 

_Not a toy, be careful. N._

* * *

Dick made it four blocks before he saw the lights. Red and Blue flashed and reflected off sheets of snow causing the whole neighborhood to look like some sick disco. Nightwing changed direction midswing. He landed with a slight thud on the lid of a dumpster. Dick crept slowly down along the alley, keeping to the shadows as best he could. Police were gathered together just at the mouth of the alley speaking in loud whispers. 

“I honestly thought I was going to throw up seeing it.” One of them said with a shake of the head. 

“Above our pay grade.” Another replied. 

“I heard one of the detectives saying it looked like a professional hit.” Still a third voice said. 

The first man snorted. Dick could just make out a mustache on his face. “I guarantee it was. Poor thing. Looked like she had been…” He shuttered. “Whoever did it was after information, or they were the sickest--”

“No way. You won’t believe it.” A short officer joined the huddle. 

“What?” a chorus of voices asked. 

“It was Meredith Blake. Just found her ID.” 

Dick recoiled in shock. Meredith Blake. Mrs. Blake. No. That… That was the wife of one of the biggest crime lords in Bludhaven. She ran a children’s shelter on ninth street. As far as criminals’ wives went she was-- had been-- rather decent. 

Dick crept back up the alley away from the gathering of police officers outside. There were very few people who would be either crazy or powerful enough to go after Kendall Blake’s wife. And there were even fewer that would be dumb enough to take the hit. Deathstroke could be in town, Dick supposed, but that seemed rather unlikely. His MO didn’t tend to cover torture. He needed to see the body, see the scene. Then he would know better. He would be able to cross off some names at least. 

It could be the League, but Bludhaven had never been a point of interest for them. It was too small. Gotham was only ever visited by them because of Bruce. No. The Al Ghuls were more unlikely than Slade. 

But there was someone… someone who was local and crazy enough to do it. Dick found his way into the building through a broken window on the fourth floor. The building felt cold, colder than outside.

Dick crept through it like a ghost. He passed the offices of what looked like several small businesses, long abandoned. The place felt like a tomb. The hairs on his arms were standing on end. Even the police in the building spoke in low tones, were Dick not searching them out, he wouldn’t have known they were there two floors below. After a quick inspection of the building it was clear that there were no vents for him to navigate. 

There was however, an old dumbwaiter system. Using his infrared he found exactly where the crime scene was located. Luck was on his side. There was an old shaft that Dick squeezed into and slowly, inch by inch, slid down. 

The lower he got the more apparent the smell was. Dick stopped breathing through his nose. The place smelled of blood. Finally he reached the door on the second floor. He could hear officers moving around and camera’s flashing on the other side. Dick moved his feet to opposite corners and very slowly pushed so that all of his weight rested on them, leaving his hands free. He let go, and slid down an inch. He pushed his feet harder into the corners. The metal groaned slightly, and Dick held his breath. No one seemed to pay the dumbwaiter shaft any attention. Dick breathed. 

Very carefully and very slowly he pulled the doors open just a hair's breadth. The scene was ghastly. Even after years of seeing murder victims, of investigating crime, Dick felt sick. He forced himself to take it all in, to memorize the way the blood had spread, the injuries, the way the room was. He made himself focus on the things the officers said. He looked and listened and let it all sear into his brain. And when he had, he slowly slid the doors back closed. 

Dick sat suspended in that small space for a long time. Waves of nausea crashing over him. She looked… Dick closed his eyes. When he was young there were times that Batman had sent him home. Dick used to hate when he did that. He would argue and shout. But Bruce never relented. 

Dick wished he had understood then. 

Very slowly he pulled himself up. He slipped out into the night feeling rather numb. He made his way back to the Nest without realizing he had even planned to go there. 

The small space was cramped and slightly drafty. Compared to Titan’s tower and the Batcave it was a shack. But Dick was rather proud of it. He had set it up with no help and nearly everything inside of it was his own invention. It had a space for his bike and a workbench for fixing weapons or making things. It had a cot and a shower head and drain in the corner that worked well enough-- even if he didn’t have hot water in the place. 

Slowly Dick moved around the place, transforming from Nightwing back into Dick Grayson. He still felt ill. But he needed more than cold water a shower here could give him. He needed to stand under water so hot it turned his skin a reddish pink. He needed coffee- or whiskey. He needed to-- Dick sank down to tie his shoes. He had the left lace done when he realized his jeans were wet. Dick straightened up and looked at the ceiling. _It_ was dry. Dick felt something hot run down his neck. _Oh_. His eyebrows knit together. When had he started crying? 

He sat there for a long time, just looking up. He couldn’t close his eyes. He would see her. No, tonight would be sleepless. His fingers itched for his phone. God, did he want Bruce. 

Dick didn’t remember going home, but he was suddenly there. He didn’t remember his shower, or digging out the bottle of rum Wally had bought for that game night a month ago. But there he was half drunk on his sofa. The TV was on but he wasn’t sure what was playing. The colors were too bright and the sound was muted. He watched two people fighting comically, and the characters slam doors that made the whole house shake. Dick vaguely recognized it. Perhaps he had seen it when he was young and waiting for Bruce to come home those nights he hadn’t been allowed out. He poured another glass. 

Dick wasn’t sure how long he lay there. It felt like hours or days even. But it couldn’t have been longer than half an hour. He didn’t have work the next day, mercifully, so he needn't worry about the rum or the sleepless night he was bound to have. But the apartment was so… so empty. He wanted Alfred’s shuffling feet, he wanted Bruce’s low rumbling voice. He wanted Ace’s nails clicking on the wood floorboards. He wanted to hear the bats chirping and the weird way the vents rattled. 

It hurt so bad. 

Dick pulled out his phone and stared at Bruce’s number. He could call. It was just one button. One. Small button. 

Dick scrolled down, all the way at the bottom. Second to the last name in his phone. 

“‘Lo?” 

“I--”

“Dick?” Wally sounded suddenly much more awake. “Dick, what's going on, man?”

“I think I’m drunk.” Dick looked down at the bottle laying on the floor next to him, how much had he had drunk? Surely it hadn’t been more than half. But the lack of amber liquid told him he had had far too much.. 

“Where are you?”

“Home.” Dick rolled over so that his face was pressed into the seat cushion. 

“It’s five am, Dick.” Wind nearly drowned out Wally’s voice. Dick wondered where he was. 

“Yeah. I had a…” Dick wondered how to explain what he had seen. “It was a rough night.” 

The alarm went off and filled the room with a shrill, piercing howl. Dick was on his feet faster than his stomach could handle. Someone was swearing and dashing about, but Dick couldn’t focus on that, he was far too busy vomiting. 

“Dick what’s the code?” Wally continued cussing and punching in numbers at an inhuman speed. 

“82653” Dick mumbled, swaying slightly. Wally was… Had he asked Wally to come over?

The sounds cut off and Dick found himself pushed back onto the sofa. 

“Wally?”

“Yeah. I got you. Just-- Just sit here and,” Dick felt a swift current and something pushed into his hand. “Drink this. Slowly.”

Dick took the water and made a show of sipping it. Wally was a blur as he zoomed around the apartment cleaning the mess Dick had made. Dick hadn’t taken more than three sips before the sofa dipped next to him and he found Wally leaning his shoulder against him. 

“What kind of bad?” He finally asked after Dick reached forward and set the glass down.

“Case.” 

Wally swore, but tension left his shoulders. Dick hated that he made Wally worry. Wally should be worried about school, about girls and normal stuff. Dick was-- Well, whatever Dick brought into Wally’s life it was far from normal. 

“It must have been a really bad one if you’re like this…” Wally nudged the now nearly empty bottle of rum with his foot. 

“Yeah. It was-- she was…” Dick turned his head into Wally’s shoulder. “Can you tell me… anything?”

Wally didn’t hesitate. He dove headlong into a wild tale about a girl at his school forgetting her homework and then having the audacity to try and claim Wally had taken her’s. Dick sat trying to absorb the words. Every now and then Wally would pick up Dick’s water and hand it to him. Dick would take a sip, hand it back and Wally would set it down. 

They fell into a familiar pattern. Dick finally fell asleep at noon. 

When he woke he could hear Wally whistling somewhere in the apartment. Despite the pounding headache, Dick smiled. 

  
  
  



	13. Blue Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... feel free to hate me. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Please scream at me in the comments it feeds me. We are in the final quarter. I'm hoping to get this done in another five chapters. Please hold me to it. I am looking at my WIPs crying.
> 
> But I hope you enjoy. And again... I'm sorry. Also as a side note I wrote eight epigraphs for this.

I don’t know how to say I miss you

I’m held back by the fear that you don’t want me too.

* * *

Bruce sat staring at the mantle. The clock seemed to be ticking faster then it should. Bruce wondered if Dick was a wake. 19. He would be 19 in two minutes. Well Bruce didn’t know when he had been born. He didn’t know the hour, the minute or the second. But he was almost glad now. It was hard enough to count down to the day. And then to count down to the moment _it_ had happened. 

Today was both the best day of Bruce’s life and one of the worst. It had given him Dick twice, but it had also hurt Dick. The grandfather clock tolled loudly. It seemed to echo throughout the halls of the manor. The _mantle_ clock just kept ticking. Next to it was perched an old photo of the two of them. 

Bruce should go to bed. He’d called it an early night, his heart just hadn’t been in it. Jason hadn’t complained much when he told him they were heading home for the evening. 

Perhaps Alfred had told him. Today was the day Dick Grayson had come into the world and then 8 years later came into his life on a horrible spring night. Dick for years had hated his birthday. He hadn’t wanted to celebrate it, and Bruce, at first, had let him. It wasn’t his place to push him to relieve something so painful. And more still, Bruce understood it. He still hated going to anything but a matinee at the theaters. He didn’t like to eat popcorn anymore, or to hold hands. 

It wasn’t until Dick turned thirteen that they had had a small party for his birthday. Really it had only been Clark and a few others. Wally had been invited…

Bruce pulled his phone out. 

“‘Llo” Barry mumbled into the phone.

“I-- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” Bruce said lamely into the receiver. It was after midnight, of course Barry had been asleep. 

“What’s wrong?” Barry sounded more awake then he had been a moment ago, but then speedsters didn’t conform to human timelines. 

“Nothing. I--” Bruce looked at the photo again. Dick was so young. He still was. Bruce wondered how he could have let himself break his promise to that boy. That small boy in his memory who had once asked him, so quietly, if Bruce was going to leave too. 

“Bruce?” Barry said loudly. 

Bruce jumped. He had forgotten he was on the phone. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in five. Just-- Just get coffee.”

Bruce grunted, but the line was already dead. He hefted himself up from the sofa and made his way to the kitchen. Alfred had the coffee pot set up for the morning. Bruce hit the start button and for a moment watched as dark liquid dripped into the basin below.. He would have to remember to refill it for later. 

He then walked over to the back door that led to a wide patio with several grills and smokers. He unbolted the door and slid it open. 

It was cold for spring. Well it was early spring he supposed. But it had seemed much colder since Dick had left. Two years. Two birthdays. Well it wasn’t really a full two years but it felt like eons. 

“Bruce?” Barry slipped into the room silently and moved to sit on a stool. “What’s up?”

“I just,” Bruce looked around helplessly. How could he say it? Last year he had called Clark drunk seven times, but he didn’t want to drink. He didn’t want to hear Clark’s ‘no he doesn’t want to talk’ over and over again. 

He just wanted… he wanted a friend. Someone who didn’t blame him. Bruce knew Barry knew it _was_ his fault but he never laid on extra guilt. 

“Oh,” Barry said slowly. “I forgot. Superman said it was his birthday this week.”

Bruce nodded and went to get the mugs from the shelf. He poured Barry a cup of coffee and then one for himself, though he didn’t think he could stomach it. 

“So, that’s what this is about?” Barry accepted the mug and took a small sip. 

“I guess.” Bruce said unsure how he could explain it. It felt too complex to voice and too simple to feel this confused by it all. 

“Clark said he was having Dick over for dinner tonight.” Barry set his mug down. “Wally said they were getting together over the weekend with some of the Titans.”

Bruce felt so weak to be clinging to such small nuggets of information. “Have… Have you seen him lately?”

It wouldn’t be odd for Barry to run into Dick on a case or perhaps while spending time with Wally. What _was_ odd was the way Barry stiffened. 

Bruce felt his heart sputter. Barry’s shoulders were pulled tight and hands were now gripping the mug just slightly too tightly. 

“Yes.” Barry said slowly. “I saw him a couple months ago. It was-- he was a bit stressed but.. Bruce, you know how tough he is.”

Bruce felt like the stool had been kicked out from under him. So not even Barry was-- not on his side per say, but perhaps an ally anymore. Barry seemed to read the shift in Bruce’s mood and softened. 

“He has a nice place. Not great decorations, but it’s not too small. He has Clark’s old brown couch. You remember that old one from before he got married?”

Bruce nodded. 

“The dishes were done. He had milk in the fridge that wasn’t expired. It was clean but not very tidy.”

Bruce’s mind latched onto every word and buried it some secret place in his heart. It was too little, but too much all at once. 

“He had a picture of… He had a picture of you two on a shelf in the living room.” Barry spoke so softly Bruce wondered if he had imagined it. 

“He did?” Bruce hated how desperate he sounded, how wretched and needy. 

“Yeah. He did.” Barry looked sadly at him. It wasn’t pity per say, but it was a look of understanding. 

They stayed there for hours, Bruce’s coffee turned cold in his hands. He didn’t drink a single drop. Barry left when the sun began to stream through the lace curtains. Bruce didn’t move though. He thought he could see a family of robins out the window, perched on the nearest tree. 

* * *

Dick leaned over the desk, with his eyes narrowed. The Blake case had gone in loops for weeks. But he’d had a break last night after combing the crime scene for the seventh time. Dick had found a sliver of skin under a broken fingernail. The broken fingernail had been lodged into a floorboard down the hall from where the body had been found. The DNA of the nail matched the victim. But the _skin_ hadn’t. Which meant one thing. Meredith Blake had scratched someone. She had fought back and scratched her killer. 

And Dick had the killer's DNA. It had only taken three weeks of investigating, combing through security cameras within a five block radius, breaking into several offices that either held Blake’s banking records, or investments. It turned out investigating the murder of a major crime boss’s wife was rather difficult. It was as if everyone was investigating. Everyone except Dick Grayson. He glanced over his shoulder at Leoni on the other side of the bullpen. 

The man had been hovering since he had moved back to his own place. It was starting to cause Dick to be annoyed. It wasn’t Leoni’s fault, not really. He was worried. After all Tom was still out there and even though Dick had assured him he had beefed up his home security and regularly switched his habits. He never shopped at the same store twice, and he never came the same way to work. But Leoni was _still_ nervous. Perhaps he could tell Dick was hiding things. 

Dick just didn’t know how to assure him he wasn’t hiding any new death threats or evidence on his stocker case. He was hiding the fact he was a vigilante. He was hiding the fact he was still working the case in his spare time. He was hiding the fact that he was still after Jacaby, but now he was coming at him from a new angle. Dick was almost positive that Jacaby was the one who had murdered Blake. The way she was murdered was too gruesome to be a standard hit. It had been personal. And Jacaby had been first caught because of a slip up that her husband Kendall had made. 

Revenge for his time in prison seemed a likely motive. Not only would it be good revenge but the hit had benefited one of Jacaby’s most frequent benefactors, the infamous twins. Dick was still working on uncovering just how wide their network went, but he feared he had only begun to unravel that thread. 

“Grayson, what are you--”

Dick stilled. He was on the federal database looking at Jacaby’s file. He just needed to get his DNA profile to compare with the sample he had at the Nest. 

“Dick, we talked about this.” Leoni’s voice was steel and Dick had to stop himself from flinching. 

“I just wanted to see if there was any movement on--”

“No. You don’t get to do that. Sarge and I were clear. You are to go _nowhere_ near that. I--” Leoni took a steading breath. “You have a target on your back and you're playing with fire.” he shoved his finger into Dick’s chest angrily hissing at him. 

“I wasn’t doing anything but looking to see if they had gotten anywhere closer to closing the case.” Dick stepped back and crossed his arms, defensively. Though he had most certainly been doing no such thing. He _had_ in fact been planning to pull intel to use himself. But that was his business. 

“Get out.” 

Dick thought his heart had stopped. 

“Log out right now. I-- I can’t believe you. After all we’ve done to get you out of-- get out of my sight. You're done for the day, boot.”

Dick flinched. He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly he was in the cave staring at Bruce. The words were echoing in his head over and over again. He staggered back and sat on the top of the desk. He could hear bats' wings rustling and the cool air of the underground wind currents. He blinked and he was in the bullpen. Leni was leaning forward, his hands on his shoulders. 

“Grayson, Grayson you with me?” Leoni was shaking him, his eyes wide and panicked. 

Dick looked around. His body ached oddly, as if he had just gone a few rounds with Two-Face. 

“Grayson?”

Dick forced himself to look at Leoni. 

“What was that?”

He shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry.” 

Leoni stepped back slightly looking at him with an odd expression. “Where did you go?” 

“I-- What do you mean?” Dick asked nervously. 

“You checked out. Where... what did I say?”

Dick was silent for a long time. He just looked helplessly at Leoni. The words ‘get out’ still ringing in his ears, but in a much deeper tone than Leoni could make. 

“Did… Did he tell you to get out?” Leoni asked nervously. “I-- is that it?”

Dick felt the blood drain from his face. 

Leoni swore. “I meant out of the bullpen, away from the computers to go home for the night. I-- I don’t want you near this case kid.”

“I know. I just wanted to see if it was any closer to over.” Dick lied. 

“It is. For you it is. Get that in your head.” Leoni pinched his nose. “You can’t do this.”

“Okay. Fine.” Dick pushed off from the desk. “You win. I don’t care.”

“What is your problem, boot?” Leoni grabbed Dick’s arm as he tried to push past him. 

Dick bit back a burning retort when he saw the concern in Leoni’s eyes. His anger melted and suddenly he felt terrible. When had lying become so easy? Is that who he wanted to be, as untrusting at Batman and just as cruel. 

Dick melted in Leoni’s hold and shook his head. “Sorry, I’m-- I had a rough night. I’m just-- I’m sorry.”

“Because it’s your birthday?” Leoni tilted his head.

Dick frowned and shuffled his feet. “Yeah. I don’t know why I though-- He didn’t last year either.” Dick sank back onto the desk and sighed. “You really want me to go home?”

Leoni sighed and shook his head. “Just promise you’re going to let this go.”

Dick nodded but this time felt guilt bubbling in his gut. 

Leoni sank down next to him. They just sat there for a moment. If other officers had noticed the scene they’d made they gave no sign. After a while, Leoni stood up and waved for Dick to follow. He smiled and stood.

* * *

Dick jingled his key in the lock several times before the door finally swung open. He kicked it closed behind him and punched in his security code. He dropped his bag on the counter and made his way to the kitchen without turning the lights on. The place felt cold, though it was a rather warm spring day. Dick had just started pulling boxes of leftover Chinese food out, when his phone rang. Dick sniffed the containers, grimaced and tossed it in the trash before picking up his phone from where he had set it on the counter. 

“Hey Clark.” Dick said softly. He wasn’t really in the mood to deal with Clark’s enthusiasm. But he couldn’t ignore the call. Not today.

“Hey!” Clark’s voice filled the apartment. Dick pulled the phone away from his ear. “Lois wanted to know if you wanted chocolate cake or vanilla?” 

Dick stilled. He… He hadn’t planned on going over. In fact he had been looking forward to laying on the coach and doing nothing, speaking to no one. 

“Dick?” Clark’s voice dropped slightly. 

Dick closed his eyes. “Whichever.” 

“Are you okay?”

Dick’s grip on the phone became painfully tight. He was so sick of everyone asking him that. Was it not enough to be? Why did he have to be okay _or_ broken? Wasn’t there another choice somewhere in between? “I-- I have a case I’m working on.”

“Dick.” Superman’s voice sounded almost scolding, and Dick wanted to hang up then and there. “It’s your birthday. I’m sure it can wait.”

“No, it’s DNA evidence. I need to get it done before--”

“How about we swing up to Watchtower, you can use the computers there and then you can be done faster. Lois will kill me if I tell her you’re not coming over.”

Dick pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to see anyone. He _wanted_ to stay home and mope. He _wanted_ to lay on the couch and watch terrible television. He _wanted_ to forget what today was. He _wanted_ to forget that today he had become an orphan. He had been alone longer than he had had them. He wanted to forget he had not only lost his first parents but his second-- not father. Bruce had never-- Dick closed his eyes. He needed to get a grip. He-- 

“Dick?” Clark’s voice sounded so far away, as if he was talking from underwater. 

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.” 

Dick hung up without reply. He had half an hour to get himself together. He wiped his sleeve across his face, and strode to the bedroom. 

Dick had just finished washing his face and brushing his teeth by the time Superman slipped into his living room from the window. 

The trip to Watchtower was quiet. Dick didn’t feel like making small talk and the way Clark was glancing at him every few seconds was making him nervous. It was like he wanted to ask him what was wrong, and Dick wasn’t sure if he could voice it. That he was being crushed under the disappointment of Bruce’s absence, the one person who he knew understood how hard his birthday was, or if it was remembering it. The falling, the screaming. The blank walls of the police department. Maybe it was both. 

Why was it he could remember that all so perfectly but he’d long forgotten the smell of his mother’s perfume. He hadn’t ever known if his Dad liked to shave every day or several times a week. He would never be able to ask them how they got engaged or if they had always wanted to be in the circus. 

The list of things he didn’t know was longer than the list of things he did. 

Dick made his way through Watchtower like a ghost. The place was quiet for the weekend. There was no sound coming from the galley and whoever was on duty wasn’t in the monitor room. Dick slid into the computer chair and pulled up the database he needed with Jacaby’s info in it. The League didn’t know how good they had it. Bruce and him had spent years working to infiltrate nearly every database. They had spent years programming back doors into servers and systems so that they were an untraceable presence. 

The League benefited from years of effort. Sure they didn’t have access to _everything_ , but major cities were rather easy to access now due to the ground work they had laid. 

Dick put the sample he needed to compare into a mass spectrometer and slumped down. Clark had slipped away to go pick up a cake, so Dick was mercifully alone. He spun slightly in his chair as he waited. The view from the window was spectacular. Dick never grew tired of space. Most of his friends found the cold and quiet to be oppressive, but he found it comforting. It felt _familiar_. 

He spun slowly in the chair and tried to count as many stars as he could before the chair turned away from the window. He had gotten to 227 before he heard footsteps. 

“So what did you decide?” He called over his shoulder, putting his boots on the ground to halt his rotation. Dick glanced over his shoulder at the door. “Vanilla or chocola--”

Clark wasn’t in the door. 

Dick blinked. 

“I-- Dick.” Bruce looked as if he had been hit in the head. “I-- Hello.”

Dick opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure what to say. 

“Happy Birthday.” Bruce sounded choked. 

Dick gave a jerky nod and wondered if he could leave. Clark could come back for the result of the test. 

“What are you working on?” Bruce asked slowly as if afraid Dick would evaporate if he moved too quickly. 

“Just checking some DNA.” Dick was suddenly too aware that he was sitting down. He moved to stand quickly and nearly lost his balance. His face flushed beat red, but Bruce seemed to be studying the computer screens intently and hadn’t noticed. 

“I hope…” Bruce hesitated. “Are you-- I mean.” Bruce looked like he wanted to hit something. 

Where he a stranger, Dick would have found the expression an angry one. But he knew better. Bruce was mad with himself. Dick hated that he still could see that, that after almost two years he still could read him. 

“Are you working all night?” Bruce finally choked out.

“Err.. No. I’m-- Clark and Lois invited me for dinner.” Dick wondered what Bruce wanted. Why didn’t he just leave?

“Good.” Bruce sighed. “Dick, I’m not good at this.”

Dick stiffened. Ready for the dismissal. He steeled himself for the harsh words that would signal the end of this encounter. What was another let down? He was used to them. 

“I don’t know how to not be… I don’t know how to ask you things anymore without feeling like I’m putting my foot in it.”

Dick waited. 

“Are you? Today… I know it’s hard.” He said slowly as if each word had been mulled over individually before being said aloud. 

Dick stiffened. Was he? Was he asking about his _feelings_? An ocean's worth of emotions crashed over him. A part of him wanted to step forward and pull Bruce into a hug. That part of him that wanted the man who understood how much losing your family could hurt, wanted nothing more than to let go and ask for comfort.

But another part of him felt indigent. How dare he? How dare this man who had turned him away have the nerve to ask him that? He had forfeited any right to know, or care the moment he told Dick to leave. 

Dick shook slightly as the battle raged inside of him. Bruce seemed to realize his misstep, for his face fell into a blank mask replacing what had only moments ago been a look of concern. 

Dick tore his eyes away from his face. He wanted to rage and shout. He wanted to tell him just how much he _hated_ the man in front of him. How much he wanted him to care, how much he still loved hi-- Perhaps Bruce did want Dick to be happy in some part of himself, but Dick didn’t want that. He had always been an all or nothing kind of man. And Dick wouldn’t take pity, he _couldn’t_ , not when Bruce didn’t wouldn’t ever want him. He turned away to look back out at the void of space. 

He fixed his eyes on a star just to the left of the dark side of the moon. It was blue and bright. Blue stars burned the hottest. Dick crossed his arms and kept his gaze on it as if it would burn out all his rage if only he stared at it long enough. That was why he had picked blue when he rebranded himself. He had hoped it would remind him of why he had become this. That anger and hurt that burned within him, he hoped could be light to someone else, like the light of a blue distant star. 

He felt a tear fall down his face. 

“I’m sorry--” Bruce whispered somewhere behind him, but Dick didn’t turn. If he did he would give in. He would fall into the temptation to pretend this... _causal_ concern was something more. He would allow himself to pretend that Bruce had wanted him. But that was far from the truth. This was just _consideration_ that came from spending years together. It was nothing more. 

“I didn’t mean to… overstep.” 

Dick didn’t so much as blink. He stared at that star until his eyes burned. He stared until the timer went off saying his test was finished. When he turned around Bruce was long gone. 

Dick turned off the machine and glanced at the screen. 

_Match Positive._

He quickly printed the results and walked as fast as he could to the zeta tube. He hated this station. He hated this fortress he had helped design. He wanted to purge it from his mind. He wanted to purge _Bruce_ from his mind, he realized. His gripe redoubled on the documents and evidence in his hand. 

New starts and beginnings. Nightwing was for new starts. But maybe he hadn’t burned the past out of him as thoroughly as he had hoped. 

Dick nearly walked straight into Clark’s chest. 

“Hey are you-- what’s wrong?” Clark almost dropped the cake he was holding. 

“Nothing. Lets.. lets go.”

“Dick?” Clark tilted his head as if he were listening for something. Perhaps he was, Dick reasoned.

“I just want to go, okay?” Dick pushed past him towards the zeta trusting Clark to follow. He didn’t turn back to see the figure in shadows watching them. He didn’t acknowledge the goosebumps on his skin that meant he was being watched. He didn’t see Bruce watching them go with tear filled eyes. 


	14. A Haunting of Beguiling Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so close! I am thinking fourish chapters left. 
> 
> Anyway as always hope you enjoy and I love to hear from you!

Spin me round and ask me where to go,

Like a compass I’ve always pointed to you.

Deprived of direction, lost

Faltering in the dark

As I become the marksmen’s next mark.

* * *

Dick was almost home when he felt it. The strange sensation of being watched was always slightly unnerving. Dick ducked into a nearby shop just off the road and hid himself from the street view next to a rather large display of candles. Water dripped into his eyes and off his coat onto the floor as she stood. The shop felt too hot after the ice of the rain outside. He looked out on the street with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t sure what it was that had tipped him off. After years of playing hide and seek with Bruce in the shadows of winter Gotham nights, the feeling had become _ingrained_ in him. By the time he was fifteen he had grown so attuned to it, it was less of a conscious realization than a natural inkling that he couldn’t ever really pin down.

The street looked rather ordinary. People walked past the window with their heads low and eyes focused on the ground. Hoods were pulled up and umbrellas were lifted to ward off the downpour of cold rain. Dick kept scanning. The strange feeling was not completely unfamiliar, as if it were a person his body was used to. If he spent enough time with someone, his developed sense would almost ignore their presence. He half wondered if Bruce was on the street. Dick could remember being young and how natural it was to fall into that reassured unseen feeling that Batman would give. Dick didn’t need to see him to feel it. Or at least he didn’t used to. 

His eyes scanned the roofs of buildings on the opposite side of the street. No shadows moved. Dick reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It wouldn’t _hurt_ to check, he thought nervously. If it was Bruce, then he would need something. He could count the number of times that Bruce had come to Bludhaven since Dick had moved here. A grand total of once. Dick had had evidence for a smuggling case and was too busy to bring it to Gotham. The interaction had been uncomfortable. Bruce hadn’t said more than a handful of words and Dick had felt… too unnerved by his presence to try and even make small talk. Batman had taken the evidence and left within twelve minutes. 

Dick hated that he still had Bruce’s number memorized. He hated that his fingers dialed it so naturally. 

“Hello.” Bruce sounded distracted. There were several voices loudly arguing around him. 

Dick frowned. _Why had he?_ He felt sick. He didn’t want to talk to Bruce. His odd hope that the man was here... had been wild and entirely unrealistic. Bruce would --of course-- be at work. Dick had only been heading home because he worked the second watch shift. Bruce wasn’t in Bludhaven, _he_ wasn’t watching him, and now Dick had been dumb enough to call him. 

“I-- Hello?” Bruce said again. 

Dick wondered if Bruce had even looked at the caller ID. Then he remembered Bruce couldn’t have had this number. He had to get a new one, last week when Clark had stepped on his phone. 

“How did you get this number?” Bruce asked and Dick suddenly wanted to hang up. Let Bruce block him. 

“I-- Sorry. I just thought…” Dick stumbled over his words. _I thought you were here and now I know I’m an idiot_ , Dick thought.

“Dick?” Bruce said his name in a hiss of air, as if he had been hit as he said it. 

“Sorry. I just thought…” Dick’s mind spun wildly working to come up with any excuse for the call. “I heard intel the other night about a shipment of… 451-A, and I just wanted to know if you had heard anything from Crane lately?” 

Dick hated how his voice squeaked slightly over the invented tale. He hadn’t heard of any such shipment. 

The line was silent, Dick renewed his search of the street. If Bruce wasn’t here, then there was still someone out there following him. It was easier to think about that then wait for Bruce’s response. 

The voices on the other end of the line faded and died. Dick heard the click of a door and Bruce take a deep breath. He wondered if Bruce was exhausted or irritated. Dick held his breath. 

“No, but I can look into it tonight. Crane’s been in Arkham for over four months now. All reports show he’s been doing relatively well with the new program there. I-- We’ve had some problems with copycats, but I’ve not seen 451-A for several years.”

Dick hummed, still focused on the street. “That’s fine. It’s probably nothing. I just wanted to check. Thanks.” 

Dick lowered the phone from his ear to hit the end button. 

“Wait-- Dick. I--”

Dick panicked and hung up. He slid the phone back in his pocket and redoubled his search. 

He almost didn’t see it, a familiar bomber jacket. Dick felt his veins freeze. _Tom_. There was his patch from his second tour of Afghanistan, It wasn’t a common design. Where Dick in uniform he would have slipped into the back alley and followed Tom himself. But he wasn’t he was Dick Grayson. He had an identity to protect. Dick pulled out his phone again.

“Boot, I’m busy, what's up?” Leoni said quickly.

“Tom’s following me.” Dick said in a low voice. The shopkeeper was now eyeing him annoyed at his lack of interest in the merchandise around him. 

“Where are you?” Leoni asked, all irritation gone from his voice. 

“I’m on Jefferson Avenue in,” Dick looked around the shop quickly. “Err… Yankee Candle.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t leave.” 

Dick sighed and hung up. He would wait. He would report it, and go home and stay there for the night.

The bell on the door of the store rang. Dick stiffened and picked up a large candle. 

“Dick.” Tom said coolly. 

Dick turned slowly. The glass jar in his hand felt cold and heavy. 

“I know I’m not supposed to-- you need to stop.” Tom didn’t seem to care that Dick was gripping a rather efficient bludgeoning device. 

“Stop what?” Dick moved so his feet were wider apart and bent his knees slightly so that he was ready to move should he have to. 

“Digging into cops, looking for Jacaby. There’s-- look I get it. You think I didn’t turn my nose up at it all? You think I didn’t hate it at first? But this isn’t something you can fix. Stop trying. It’s only going to get you left in a shallow grave.”

“That a threat?” Dick felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He didn’t dare look away from Tom. 

“No. It’s the truth. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ve been doing this for years. You can’t trust--” 

“Can I help you gentlemen find something?” A teen girl with very short hair asked, irritated. 

“Just drop it.” Tom nodded slightly.

“I can’t.” Dick said suddenly as Tom turned back to the door.

“Then I’m not responsible for what he does to you.” The bell rang but Dick didn’t hear it. He was too busy trying to force his heart back to a steady beat. There it was, confirmation. Tom was working for Jacaby. And somehow they knew Dick had been digging into the case. He thought desperately of the DNA he had turned in the other week. Sure he had done it anonymously but… He hadn’t been in his Nightwing uniform when he had done it. He had been too tired after staying late at Clark’s to change. 

Dick was an idiot. He had spent months working to keep his head down, to be just a single badge in a sea of white uniform shirts. He stood feeling his blood rush to his face. If Bruce could only see how far he had fallen. 

“Sir?” The girl asked, now rather put out with him.

“Sorry-- I. I’m waiting for a friend.” He mumbled and set the candle down on the shelf. 

She wandered over to the check out desk at the back of the store. He was still shaking. Not in fear he realized, but anger. He was mad at himself. He wanted nothing more than to end this. He needed to. It was going to drive him insane if he didn’t. 

Dick stood numbly looking out the window and until the police cruiser pulled over in front of the store. He pressed his lips together at the way Leoni leapt from the car rushing to the door. 

“Boot?” He looked around wildly and Dick pulled himself away from the corner he was tucked in. 

“Here. I’m fine.” Dick walked past him out the shop door and back into the downpour. He got in the passenger side of the cruiser, without a backward glance. 

Leoni followed him, eyes darting up and down the street. “What happened?” he asked only when they were both inside the car with the doors locked. 

“Tom was following me. Said--” Dick hesitated. He had been careful since Leoni saw him on the computer to hide any extra digging he had done at work. He didn’t want Leoni to see him working the case again. But Dick didn’t have the energy to come up with a lie on such short notice. It seemed like he had wrapped himself in them lately. “He said I needed to stop and said… well he said if I didn’t he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened.”

Leoni stilled. His hands gripping the wheel tightly in front of him. “You-- You’ve been looking into the Jacaby case?”

Dick closed his eyes. How much could he say? He had dropped the DNA off as Dick Grayson. He could admit to that. Leoni could find _that_ out if he looked. So he could say he looked around the crime scene and dropped the evidence off… Dick licked his lips. He hated this. He never had to worry like this before. Bruce used to worry about identity stuff all the time and Dick had always brushed it off. He shouldn’t have. He should have listened more. Maybe then he wouldn’t have-- _No_. Dick bit his lip hard. 

_We aren’t going there._

Leoni was looking at him with narrowed eyes. He was mad. 

“I went to the crime scene for the Blake case.” Dick fixed his eyes on a puddle. The rain bounced off the surface as it struck hard and fast. “I had a hunch that it was Jacaby.” 

Leoni closed his eyes. “You-- you really don’t know when to stop. I’ve told you over and over. Sarge and I’ve put our necks out to keep you safe. Do you know how many shifts we’ve had to take a different route or let some other unit take calls for just so that _you_ weren’t near the Twin’s gang.” 

Leoni’s voice shook slightly with anger and Dick could feel the waves of it rolling off of him. 

“I’ve traded shifts, let you stay with me, I’ve worried and spent way more time on you then any other rookie. This-- you-- Do you want to die? Because I’m not going to keep doing this. You either can get over your cowboy, wild west obsessive need to be a hero, or you can get lost. Because _you_.” Leoni’s grip redoubled on the wheel. “You don’t seem to want help.” 

“I was right. It _was_ Jacaby.” Dick said quietly as the rain pounded the roof of the cruiser. 

“I don’t care. You are throwing everything I’ve done and Sarge has done for you back in our faces. I don’t care if you are right or wrong. I care if you’re dead. And this--” His voice wobbled. “This is how you get dead.”

“If we catch him--” Dick turned to look at Leoni, irritation bubbling up. Why didn’t he understand? This wasn’t something he could back down from. He wasn’t throwing away what they were doing for him. He was trying to _end_ this. Maybe Leoni couldn’t see that. This had started with Tom, and Dick needed to close the chapter. 

“If we catch him?” Leoni swore colorfully. “You are the dumbest kid I’ve ever met. It doesn't matter if we catch him!” Leoni shouted, and the rain seemed to get louder. “He’s one guy. One! You have made a whole gang mad. I’m--” He smacked the wheel and swore again.

“You don’t think I can do this.” Dick said numbly. So it wasn’t just Robin that people thought he couldn’t. 

Leoni snarled. “Are you serious? Do you not see what is happening?”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” Dick felt a warmth in his gut, a fire of reckless abandon. He would prove them all wrong. He just needed to find Jacaby. He would serve the arrest warrant. He would prove Leoni-- Bruce, everyone wrong. He was able to do this. 

He shouldn’t have called Leoni. He had _thought_ he was being smart, protecting his identity by not handling Tom as Nightwing. But if they didn’t believe in him, then their help was worthless. 

Dick yanked open the car door, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. He didn’t turn back at Leoni’s shouts. He just trudged home. He would finish this. 

* * *

Nightwing was a terror that night. He moved around the city like an angry demon. He upturned drug dens, raided strongholds and stormed clubs that were known for their less than savory practices. Dick had decided enough was enough. He would terrorize the underworld until they offered him Jacaby. He threw away several long operations he had been working on and raided the back room games and clubs without holding back. His message was clear each place he went. He wanted a location. A man.

By the end of the night, if any gang or crime boss had been in doubt before about Nightwing’s search for Jacaby, they weren’t now. Dick couldn’t have sent a clear signal if he hired a sky banner. 

Dick arrived back at the nest exhausted. He slumped into his one chair and tilted his head against the backrest. His body was screaming at him for his reckless actions. He had done twelve busts in just over nine hours. He had work in three hours. He needed a shower, but his joints were aching and he had several cuts and grazes that needed attention. Dick groaned and pushed himself back on his feet. Today was going to be long, but it didn’t matter. The whole city knew now. Nightwing was done playing games. He was done being nice. 

He gave it 48 hours before someone sang. 

Dick cleaned his cuts and folded his uniform up neatly before stepping into the shower. The water came out of the shower head in rough spurts as the pressure changed every few moments. 

Dick let the cold water run over him, waking him more effectively then coffee could. A sharp tone rang out over and over suddenly filling the room with an odd buzzing sound. Dick forced his eyes back open. It took him far too long to understand the buzzing sound that had filled the room. He shut off the water and snatched up his towel. The concrete floor was freezing, he had goosebumps all down his body. He needed a cup of tea, he thought absently as he made his way to the homemade console. The underside was a tangle of a million wires, and salvaged tech that allowed him some access to Watchtower, and the Titian’s system’s. It was slow and far from adequate for what he needed, but it was enough for now. Building everything up from the ground was hard on a cop’s salary. 

Dick flipped the switch that turned his receiver on. Whoever was messaging him was on transmitting a video call. Dick glanced down at himself and hit the sound transmission but nothing else. 

“Hello?” He asked his voice rough from disuse. 

“Nightwing?” 

Dick stiffened. “Batman.”

Bruce filled the screen. Dick stood awkwardly holding his towel watching the man. He looked tired. Just as tired as Dick felt. He could see a tray of tea and a half eaten sandwich on the desk next to him. Though Dick was only sending sound Bruce was looking at the batcomputer monitor with an odd expression. Dick wondered what he was working on. 

“I just wanted to inform you that Robin and I looked into that 451-A. We did find a small stash of it in the Tricorner hidden in a storage unit under one of Crane’s old aliases. We were able to round up the drug. It doesn’t look like any of it is missing but we will keep an eye out.”

Dick blinked. 

“I--” He couldn’t think why Bruce was telling him this. Then he remembered. He had-- Dick felt his face flush. He had called Bruce and made up a case to cover up the real reason for the call. 

“I just wanted to thank you for the tip, and let you know we did find it.” Bruce’s eyes flickered down to his hands “I--Appreciate you calling.”

Dick felt oddly off tilt, as if he had spun around a few too many times and tried to walk straight. He didn’t deserve thanks, he had made it all up. He nodded and then remembered Bruce couldn’t see him. 

“I… I’m glad it worked out.” Dick curled his toes on the cold floor trying to find something to ground him. “Do you need anything or was this just to let me know?” 

Bruce’s jaw clenched slightly. “Just... letting you know.”

“Okay. It’s late… err… night.” Dick reached forward and ended the call as Bruce opened his mouth to say something. 

“Nig--”

The screen went black. Dick felt unsettled. He wasn’t sure how to feel about lying to Bruce. He stared at the black screen for a long time, unseeingly. He almost wished he could cut Bruce out of his mind completely. Not remembering the man who raised him almost seemed better than these snatches of almosts and nevers. 

This had been his fault. He had let himself hope that Bruce had come and now he was reeling from two rather short conversations with the man. Perhaps forgetting wasn’t right. He had pushed and purged Bruce from him over and over, but he still was looking for him to the point where he nearly dismissed an actual threat, dreaming up Bruce’s presence in his mind. 

Dick had packed up pictures of the man and found himself unpacking them over and over again. He had blocked and unblocked his number… it didn’t seem to matter that Bruce never called. He had avoided Gotham, but then Jason called and Dick came running. He had tried to steer clear of Batman, but kept running into him at the most unlikely of times. It seemed impossible to rid himself of the memories of Bruce when, like a phantom, he kept returning to him. 

Dick in that moment wished he could just stop feeling. He wanted to be numb. If he couldn’t make his mind or body forget Bruce, then was that not the next best thing? 

Bruce was exhausting and he didn’t have the emotional tenacity to handle any more. He wanted to sleep for two and a half hours, and not think about Bruce calling him. He didn’t want to think about sending both Batman and Robin on a wild goose chase. It didn’t matter that it had ended well, he had still lied just to cover up his moment of foolish hope. 

Guilt bubbled up. Dick trudged over the cot in the corner. He lay down, letting the water still clinging to him soak into the bedding. He was too tired to care. He had been drenched most of the day and night anyway. What was a few more hours? 

He closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him. 


	15. A Surveyance in Humanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's not been two weeks since posting but here we are! Just three more chapters to go-- I hope. 
> 
> This chapter does contain some injury (minor) and some blood (a lot), but not very descriptive. 
> 
> I'm honestly really excited to get these next chapters done, because they were what the story was really intended for, but also are going to be a bit more timeline confusing. But I don't have to worry about that until the next chapter! As always I love to hear from you!

Humans bleed.

God knows I’ve never stopped.

\--But our blood's filled with iron

* * *

Dick made his way through the bullpen not paying attention to where he was going. He felt exhausted. After several weeks of relentlessly tearing up Bludhaven, Jacaby hadn't turned up. Dick wondered if the man was dead. Perhaps he was in more trouble now than he was worth and the Twins had killed him. Dick hoped not. He wanted him to serve time for what he had done. He wanted him to pay for his crimes properly. 

“Hey, Grayson.” A hand fell on Dick’s shoulder.

He turned, swaying slightly. He really should have slept for more than an hour the last two nights. He was beat. 

“Hey are you… are you okay?” Sergeant Hess was looking down at him with his eyebrows pulled close together. 

“What? Yeah.” Dick smiled.

“Is it the--” He looked around. “If you're tired from, err personal things. You can take a day off.” 

Dick laughed. “How long have you been counting down until you could tell me that?”

“You’re in your second phase of probationary, you can take a day, kid.” Hess looked at him with such worry, Dick almost felt guilty. He didn’t want Hess or Leoni worrying, but they didn’t see him as he was. He wasn’t some green kid in over his head. He had more experience then both of them, just not in a way he could ever explain. 

“I know. I just… I wouldn’t know _how_ to rest if I went home right now.”

“Tom’s only going to be out for a couple months. Unfortunately all the cases are still backlogged, but this isn’t forever.” Hess squeezed his shoulder and let his hand fall.

“I know.” Dick nodded. He hadn’t expected it to last this long either, not after doubling down on the case. “But it’s… It’s a lot right now.” Dick shrugged and turned to get his patrol gear.

“You know what? We never did your ride along.”

Dick turned back. “My… What, sir?”

“Ride along. I try and ride with all my rookies at least once.” Hess shrugged. “You’re going to be with me today, Grayson.” 

Dick smiled. _Great_. He would be needing a big cup of coffee. “Sure thing.”

Leoni didn’t seem all that pleased when Dick explained he would be riding with the sergeant, but Dick put that down to the fact he seemed unhappy _whenever_ Dick wasn’t in his immediate sight these days. 

Which made logging some-- slightly, borderline illegal-- time checking into other active cases more difficult. Dick had needed to forgo using the present computers at all. Which left him spending either more time in with the Titans than he should, or visiting Watchtower. Mercifully the few times he had been up he hadn’t seen Batman or Robin. 

Patrol with Hess quickly became a familiar pattern. They made several stops, walked a few blocks, looped around back to the car and drove more. He chatted with business owners and people walking past. Dick watched Hess work carefully. He reminded him of Gordon. He stopped and asked a homeless man if he could call anyone for him? He booked him a spot at a shelter for the night and gave him a twenty dollar bill. 

Dick smiled. He was glad this city had someone as caring at Hess. After several hours of this Hess switched up the pattern. He stopped pulling over for walk arounds and stuck to answering calls from dispatch. Dick wondered if Hess was trying to pack in as much variety as possible on the shift. Dick couldn’t complain he was feeling more alert and awake. 

Hess drove a route that Dick was unfamiliar with as they transitioned to a standard patrol. Leoni tended to make him stick to major streets and the Eastern half of the district. Hess went west, turned north, west again, south and then headed east. All before turning around again. 

Dick smiled. He used to do that when he was Robin: go the most unpredictable route to see if Batman could figure out where he was heading. “You expecting trouble in the business district?”

Hess smiled. “What gave me away?” 

“You’ve never gone south of R street.” Dick leaned back scanning the road, holding his coffee cup beneath his chin. 

“Huh.” Hess muttered. “Well to be honest, I wanted to have a heavier presence there, because Nightwing was all over it according to second watch. I have a feeling if he was there, there are going to be a few ruffled feathers around. 

Dick frowned. “Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s been up ending deep operations for nearly a month and a half. It’s been erratic. The whole city’s been in chaos over it. You should hear what second watch is calling him.”

Dick tilted his head. He very well knew the second watch had been referring to him the demon of ‘haven, but it was almost unnerving to hear Hess bring it up. “So he’s… he’s messing up things for us?”

Hess hesitated. “Honestly I have no clue. Crimes down. People seem more at ease with him here. But a lot of our long term work has been up ended and well I’m always uneasy with someone unchecked going around taking the law into their own hands.”

Dick hummed. He knew the spiel. He had been hearing it his whole life practically. He also knew it didn’t do anything to make him want to stop. It never had.

“I would feel better about it if the League would just say if he was with them or not.” 

That was a surprise, he rarely met any law enforcement that liked the League. “You have a favorite?” Dick asked teasingly as Hess took a corner a little too fast.

“I’ve always liked the Lantern guy.” Hess smiled as Dick made a wild grab for the hand rail to steady himself. 

Dick groaned.

“What’s wrong with Lantern?” Hess whined.

“Nothing. I just…” Dick felt his smile melt. He liked Hal, never had a problem with him. It was Bruce that couldn’t stand the man. 

Hess let the topic drop. 

“70 Alpha, are you receiving?” Hess reached for the radio and pulled the receiver to his mouth.

“70 Alpha receiving. Control, go ahead.”

“A 10-40 at 107th and Q.”

“Show us attached.” Hess replied, pulling a U-ie smoothly. 

Dick felt himself tense. A breaking and entering call could mean anything. It could be a silent alarm with a faulty wire, or an armed robbery. 

“You stay on my six. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Dick nodded his eyes moving frantically around the street, in case there was any sign to hint for what they were about to find. 

The building turned out to be a corner shop. Dick wondered at the shop's ability to afford a silent alarm. The windows were covered and the door slightly ajar. Hess motioned for Dick to infiltrate. 

Dick moved to his left and pushed the door open quickly with his left hand, his right on his holster. Hess had his gun drawn and stepped into the room sweeping from left to right quickly. Dick drew his gun and followed. It was always odd having it. Bruce hadn’t spent a lot of time working with them. But Dick was more than an expert marksman. 

The room was packed with shelves of goods, and was long and narrow. Hess motioned for Dick to move along the fair left isle. His feet made no sound as he moved. Merchandise was strewn about the floor, as if someone had swept their arms along the shelves just to make a mess. Dick wondered what evidence they had been trying to hide. This wasn’t from a fight. There was no order to the chaos as there would have been had it been a brawl. This was destruction for destruction’s sake. 

Dick stepped over a box of mac and cheese that had split open spilling noodles, everywhere. 

Hess called out several times but no one replied. Dick shrugged slightly and moved forward. It was when he reached the back counter that he saw it. Two legs stuck out from behind the counter. Dick still scanning and holding his gun in front of him, ran to them. The man was bound in rope. He rounded the counter and froze. His mouth felt suddenly dry, and his heart was pounding. The man lay with his face pressed into the tile, blood staining his face. A note lay pinned to his back. 

“For the demon.”

Blood obscured most of the man’s face but Dick would recognize it anywhere. Alexander Jacaby. 

Hess moved next to him and lowered his gun slowly. “Is that?”

Dick nodded. “Yeah.”

Hess bent down and put his fingers on the man’s throat to check for a pulse. Dick waited hardly breathing. He wanted him caught. This was… This was sickening. Sure the man had done a lot of terrible, horrendous things but Dick didn’t want to see him like this… Sure he had expected the underworld to turn him over, but this was… Dick hadn’t wanted this. 

“He’s breathing. Call in an Ambo.”

Dick unclipped his walkie talkie from his belt and turned slightly away from the sight of the man on the floor. It was then that he noticed it. Jacaby’s foot was moving. Dick reached forward and yanked Hess backwards by his shirt collar. The leg that had been moving to kick him missed by a hair's breadth. But Dick, now completely off balance, moved to keep Hess from falling entirely. While holding Hess from falling back, Dick fell head long into the counter. He felt something in his nose give, as he collapsed against the formica top. 

Hess recovered quickly and pinned Jacaby, so that his legs were no longer free to kick either of them. Dick stood quickly ignoring the blood dripping down his face. Assured that Jacaby was reasonably restrained he picked up his walkie from the ground and hit the transmission. 

“70 Alpha to Control we need an ambo at our location and a second unit for transfer.”

“70 Alpha acknowledged. An Ambo will be dispatched to you shortly. Please advise to injuries on scene.”

“One in custody, suspect with multiple injuries, suspected blunt force trauma to head and torso.” Dick hesitated for a moment and glanced down at his once starch white shirt and added, “one officer with a broken nose.”

Hess glanced up at him at his words and frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just--” Dick looked around and spotted a box of Kleenex on the shelf. “Will the department cover--”

Hess nodded. “Yeah. Clean up. I’ll put on expenses. It’s just tissues, Grayson.”

Dick ripped open the box and pulled a handful of the Kleenex and pressed it to his face to stench the flow of blood. Waiting for the ambulance seemed to take ages. Dick knew it was more from his anxiety to get Jacoby in cuffs and booked. 

But the time the ambulance arrived the bleeding had stopped and Dick was feeling gross from the crusty dried blood on his chest and neck. Several other cruisers arrived before the ambulance, which seemed on par for Bludhaven, Dick thought bitterly. Soon the scene was cordoned off and he was relieved from standing guard over Jacaby. Not that he had minded. He would rather keep a close eye on the man. Hess however seemed just as determined that Jacaby be watched with a razor sharp eye. He stationed several uniformed officers around the scene to insure there was no escape for the man, even as paramedics treated him.

“Boot!” 

Dick’s head snapped up from where he sat with a now warmer than cold pack of ice. Leoni looked pale as he looked around the scene. Dick grimaced there was a lot of blood, and a lot of it was his. Broken noses were inconveniently messy. 

“Hey!” Dick mumbled from underneath his ice pack.

“What happened?” Leoni looked over him with narrowed eyes. 

“We got a call, checked it out and it was Jacaby-- practically in a bow.”

Leoni tutted. “You expect me to believe that?”

Dick titled his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been after this guy for months and you just.. Stumble on him from a random call? I don’t buy it.”

“I don’t care if you buy it. It’s what happened.” Dick said heatedly. His head was pounding and Leoni’s lack of trust was starting to get to him. It brought up an old ache that it seemed hadn’t ever really healed.

Leoni rolled his eyes. Dick felt a bridled anger break loose in his chest. He spent so much of his time with this man. He worked cases and covered his back in tight spots. He had done nothing but worked to prove his worth over and over again. 

“You know you’re just like him.” Dick said bitterly. “I hate it. I have done nothing but my best for you and you don’t trust me. You don’t let me in. I-- I--” Dick wondered who the words were really meant for.

Leoni looked at him in confusion. His eyes went suddenly wide and his anger melted. “Boot, that's not…” 

Dick shook his head, blood splattering slightly as he did. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act like I’m a liar or.. Or--”

“Dick. Your nose.” Leoni shuffled slightly. 

Dick reached up and found it bleeding a fresh. He cursed and stood up heading out of the convenience store. It suddenly felt stuffy and suffocating. He had a medical kit in the shop. It was in the trunk. He just needed to get out, to get away.

Dick was greeted with the flash of several news camera crews. He blinked, and trudged on. He stocked past the line of news crews, Leoni trailing behind him. Dick was sure he looked a picture. He unlocked the trunk and moved around searching for the box of gauze. 

“Boot. Wait. Dick, let me just. Dick!” Leoni shouted when Dick kept digging. 

He rocked back on his heels and shifted so Leoni could look for him. Soon a wad of dressing was thrust under his face and Dick took it gratefully. They sat on the back of the shop as cameras flashed around them, and the murmur of reporters became constant. 

“I should have believed you.” Leoni said after a moment. “It’s just… you push.”

Dick glanced at him, but said nothing. He felt embarrassed at his outburst. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. He hadn’t even realized it had been a thought until the words were gone past the tip of his tongue. 

“I showed up and you were covered in blood and-- and I’ve lost--”

Dick stiffened. He had suspected for sometime, but had been afraid to ask. “You don’t have to.” 

“No. I just want you to understand. My partner-- Jackson-- he got in over his head. He was killed right in front of me. It’s not-- it’s not something you forget.” Leoni folded his hands in his lap as he spoke as if to give them something to do.

“I’m sorry.” Dick grimaced. “It’s just a broken nose. Honestly it was dumb.”

Leoni sighed and stood. I’m going to see if Hess will let me take you to the hospital. The paramedics obviously have their hands full.” He gestured to where Jacaby was now being moved on a granny into the ambulance. 

“Oh I waved them off early. I thought it had stopped bleeding.” Dick admitted sheepishly. 

Hess ended up taking Dick to the hospital himself. He had declared Dick his rookie for the day and was going to see the shift through. Leoni didn’t hide his irritation well. But Dick promised to let him know when he was home and that finally appeased the man. 

* * *

Dick felt dizzy after having his nose set. He lay on the hospital bed wondering just how many times he would be here for his day job. Normally Dick would just take care of something so small himself. It seemed a waste of money to go in for something he could set himself. 

“Dick!” 

Dick felt his blood freeze. 

“Lois?” He called confused. 

Lois Lane came around the curtain blocking him from view of the hall. She looked pale and clammy. Dick sat up and tried to stand, only to have Lois march over and shove him back. “Don’t you dare!” 

Dick blinked. “What’s wrong? Is Clark--” 

“You were on the news!” She nearly shouted. “Bleeding!”

Dick’s jaw dropped. His mind was moving slowly, unable to figure out just what she meant. “I was…”

“On the news. Covered in blood.” She finished irritated. 

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I--”

“No. no. Don’t you apologize. I was. I was worried. I called you but you didn’t answer so I called the station and they said you were here, but wouldn’t say for what.”

“Lois, I broke my nose.” Dick reached forward and pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s just my nose. I’m fine.”

She made an odd sound and squeezed him back just as tight. Her hands moved to smooth out his borrowed scrubs as she pulled back from the hug. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Dick smiled up at Lois. He wondered if Clark knew how wonderful she was. She plopped down on a stool next to the bed and pulled out her phone. 

“What would you like for dinner?” She said while typing furiously.

“Err. I don’t really mind.” Dick said after a moment. “What are you working on?”

Lois looked up, blinked and shot him a sad look. “Sorry, I was just letting Clark know.” 

Dick tilted his head. “Oh. I’m sorry to pull you away from whatever you were doing.”

“Don’t worry. I would rather be with you then back in Metropolis they put me on a fluff piece and it's driving me insane. I think I pissed off both Lexcorp and Wayne--” She stuttered to a stop and Dick suddenly found the pattern of wallpaper to be far more interesting than he first realized. 

“Well, it seems my press pass has been pulled from certain events. So for the time being I am stuck writing about dog shows, and human interest pieces.”

“What-- What did you do?” Dick asked carefully.

“Oh nothing too bad. I just was a bit more opinionated than I should have been on the last few articles and the paper is trying to do damage control. 

Dick thought for a moment. He hadn’t spent much time keeping up with all of Lois and Clark’s work. He would read papers, but he just didn’t have time to take in everything. 

“Okay, Grayson. I’ve got all the paperwork--” Hess halted when he spotted Lois. 

Lois stood up quickly and reached out her hand. “Sorry for just showing up. I saw him hurt on the news and well…”

Hess took her hand and smiled. “Sister?” 

“Oh no. Err Aunt I guess. Lois Lane.” She replied shaking his hand.

“Lane... are you the reporter?” Hess asked slowly. 

“Yes, which is how I saw him on the news so fast.” She glanced at Dick. “I _really_ am here for him, not a story.”

“Sargent Hess, she’s on my emergency contacts if you…”

“Oh no. No. It’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to-- It’s very nice to meet you.” He said after a moment. 

Dick swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “So what’s the plan, sir?” 

“You get to clock off and head home for the day. You shift ends in thirty minutes anyway.” Hess smiled. “Well done today.”

Lois glanced at Dick and moved towards the hall. “I’ll get us a cab. It was nice meeting you, Officer.”

Hess nodded as she left and glanced Dick over. “You know you’ve been here twice as often as my other rookies?” 

Dick smiled. “Sorry, sir.”

“Just don’t make it a habit.” Hess handed him a bag with his bloody shirt and waved him off. 

Dick found Lois leaning against the wall with her phone pressed to her ear. “I know. I didn’t have time to tell you. No, he’s fine. Broken nose.”

Dick stopped and ducked back around a corner before she could see him. 

“No. I worry too. Was he always-- Right. I’m going to stay here. No. It’s… I’m okay. Clark-- I don’t know how you do it. I saw the news and just-- he’s so human. How do you look at any of us?” her voice wobbled and Dick wondered if she was crying. 

He counted to five and then called out. “Lois? You ready?” 

She wiped her face with her sleeve quickly and turned around with a smile, glued in place. “Yeah, lets get you something to eat.”


	16. The Weight of Lost Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! So, this chapter is a bit darker then I originally intended it to be. I wrote it three times and this is just what had to happen for this fic to work. So there are some additional warnings. There will be BLOOD, some (implied) GORE in this, some DEATH (minor characters) and a mention of THROWING UP. (I worked on making it rather vague, but I will put a recap at the bottom for people who want to skip. 
> 
> This is also where we get weird in the timeline folks, so please read note at the end!

Life is not in the measure of breaths or the number of steps.

Nor is death in the steal of the gun.

You don’t have to be dead to depart.

* * *

Dick paced in the bullpen waiting. Jacaby had finally been released by the hospital and they were bringing him into the precinct to be interrogated today. Dick was chomping at the bit. The Sargent had, after several weeks of Dick asking, finally agreed to let him observe the interview. A detective from homicide had taken over the case and would be conducting it. Dick didn’t have a chance to meet her beforehand, but he had read up on her file. She had a rather impressive and consistent closing rate. 

Leoni had scoffed and shaken his head when Dick told him of his plans, but promised to be there as well. Dick knew it was a lot to ask. He wasn’t even scheduled to work today, so the fact his TO showed up in support meant a lot. 

Dick glanced at the door every few minutes waiting to see Jacaby walk in. He had remained completely silent his whole stay at Bludhaven West. He didn’t talk to even nurses or doctors. The man had been silent as a lamb. 

The room seemed to have all the heat sucked out of it. Dick stopped pacing as the doors to booking opened. 

Jacaby rattled as he walked. Chains clanged together creating an eerie sound as he moved through the room. Every eye watched him as he went. Officers all seemed to halt their activities to follow the gaunt procession moving across the room. 

Dick felt his heart speed up, as Jacaby looked around. His eyes landed on Dick, and Dick could have sworn that there was a ghost of a grin on his lips. 

Dick clenched his jaw, but refused to shiver, refused to give this man any power over him. 

It was as if color suddenly returned to the room the moment he left. Dick wondered briefly if the man was a metahuman. The way he seemed to leech life itself from the air as he moved about, but no. That was impossible. Dick would have seen that in his blood work when he was looking for the DNA match. That made it worse somehow that the man could be so evil that he created a void by simply breathing. 

“You okay?” 

Dick spun around to find Leoni watching him. “Yeah. I-- He’s creeper then I thought he would be.”

“We don’t have to be here you know. You can go home. Get some sleep. Forget about him.”

“No. I-- I need to see this through.” Dick squared his shoulders and forced his discomfort down. He had danced with the worst of the worst for years. He had looked death in the eye and spat. This was just one man. He was just one evil. Dick had faced hundreds.

“Let's get this over with.” Leoni sighed and lead the way after Jacaby and the officers transporting him. 

They slipped into the observation room and found the place packed. Dick shuffled along the back wall and tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. Three detectives and the captain were talking in hushed voices, watching as Jacaby was chained to the floor and hands cuffed to the table on the other side of the two way mirror. They all stood with a sense of unease. 

“I think we just have to hit him with everything we have on him and hope he cracks.” one of the detectives said. 

“Yeah. I mean we have enough on him to put him away for life thanks to Nightwing handing over that DNA.” The captain nodded in agreement. “If we can’t get him to flip it’s no huge loss. He won’t last in general population no matter what he does here. So It’s just how much he wants to live.”

One of the detectives chuckled and Dick felt rather cold. They were talking about him as if he were good as dead. As if he didn’t deserve a chance at redemption. Dick felt bile rise in his throat. Everyone deserved a second chance. He-- He believed that, he had to. 

Dick started to open his mouth but Leoni stepped on his foot. Dick’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He glared at his TO, silently arguing with him. Leoni’s glare was icy, as if to say ‘you’re already pushing it to be here’. Dick huffed but didn’t speak. 

“So, how do we want to do this?” the captain asked, crossing her arms. 

“I’ve got the lead, I think everyone else is here for observation.” A detective glanced around at Dick and the others in the room. Her hair was pulled back neatly into a slick ponytail and she stood with her shoulders squared. 

Dick and Leoni nodded and the other detectives gave a half nod and cleared their throats awkwardly. 

“You were the arresting officer right?” She leaned passed the others towards Dick.

“Yes, ma'am. I was there along with Sargent Hess.” Dick answered quickly, all too aware of every eye in the room on him. 

“You have anything to add that wasn’t in the report?” 

Dick shook his head. Other than the work he had done as Nightwing he’d included every detail. 

“Right.” she turned and disappeared through the door. “Let's get started.” 

She strode into the interrogation room confidently. Dick smiled slightly. She reminded him of Wonder Woman, all calm confidence. 

“Mr. Jacaby. You are here for a little chat. You’ve had your rights read to you and you have signed and waved representation to be present, is that true?” The detective pulled her chair back slowly, letting the metal drag on the ground. 

“Yes.” Jacaby hissed. “I know what this is.”

“So you are willing to talk with me?” Detective Rohrbach sank down and leaned forward slightly. 

Jacaby snorted. “I would rather do other things.” 

She stiffened and all her warmth vanished. Dick wondered momentarily if he had imagined it to begin with. The change was instantaneous. 

“You are here, charged with the murder of Meredith Blake. We have DNA from the crime scene, were she was found, connecting you to her murder. We also have seized all of your assets and property. Upon search of your residence in Mellville, your storage units in Avalon Hills and your office in Avalon Heights we’ve found several payments showing you were in fact hired and accepted hits upon nearly thirty seven women. Which we suspect to be only the surface of what you’ve done. 

“You’re not going to get off. No evidence disappearing can get you off from  _ this _ . No jury will find you innocent. You are looking at several lifetimes in prison-- without parole.”

Jacaby smiled and leaned forward. “You want a confession?” 

“I don’t need one, but I’ll take it if you want to give it.” She replied coolly. 

“You want to hear about how they screamed? The way the blood felt under my fingernails? How about how I could see life leave Mrs. Blake’s eyes? I can tell you every juicy detail.” 

Dick sank back into the wall slightly. It felt like something was squeezing his chest and the air was being sucked out of the room. How could he… how could anyone be so terrible?

“Would you write all of that down for me?” She leaned forward. “Particularly who paid you to do it.”

“You must think I’m stupid.” Jacaby smirked at the officer in front of him. Dick fought back a small smile as the detective leaned forward unperturbed. She was looking right at him and not flinching. Batman couldn’t have done it better. 

“You’re the one in cuffs. I think that’s all the evidence of your intelligence I need.” Detective Rohrbach replied. 

“You know nothing of it.” Jacaby growled.

“We have your DNA at the scene of Meredith Blake’s murder. We have more than enough to put you away for life  _ without  _ all the evidence gathered with warrens of your properties.” She leaned back and pulled photos and the DNA analysis that Nightwing had provided out of a case file. Dick couldn’t see the photographs but he figured they were of evidence collected through the warrants. 

“What I would like to know is who’s helping you? The evidence we had against you went missing for the Marco case. We also know that you’ve been hiding rather successfully for months. We just want the names of those who’ve helped you.”

“Why would I give you that?” Jacaby laughed.

“Because they no longer have your back.” We didn’t find you and Nightwing seems to have been running wild looking for you.  _ So _ , they decided you weren’t worth the trouble. Why cover for them, when they don’t care about you anymore?” Rohrbach pressed her lips together and Dick had to hand it to her. She had Jackaby to rights. She had played the whole interrogation coolly. Playing to his ego and fear’s like an expert fiddler. 

Dick watched the man sit, eyes flickering back and forth between hers. 

“You think I’m going to tell you that? You must have lost your mind.” He hissed.

“No. I think you want to live. And I know Mr. Blake is still rather upset with you.” Detective Rohrbach tilted her head as she looked at him coldly. “I also know you won’t last three days in general population.” 

“You think that matters?” He laughed. His head leaned back and he barked at the ceiling until he was out of breath. “You are dumber than you look darling. And trust me I’ve seen dumb--” 

Detective Rohrback stood calmly as he swore at her. “Suit yourself. I’m not here to stroke your ego. I was here to give you a chance to live in solitary. I hope you can make peace with your time left.” She stood purposely to the door. 

“Oh trust me. I’m ready to meet the devil. We’re old friends.” Dick felt his stomach twist. Jacaby’s eyes looked dark and dead. 

Detective Rohrbach closed the door with a click and made her way back to the observation room. 

“Well, we got a confession at least.” she sighed and sank down onto a desk near the door. 

“You handled that well.” the captain spoke in a low voice. “I’ll have him transported back to holding. Well done on all the work you’ve put into this.”

“If it weren’t for the DNA we would have never been able to get the warrens. It’s Nightwing that cracked this. Not us.” Rohrbach shook her head, and stood. 

Everyone trooped out of the room slowly. Dick cast one last look back at the man still chained to the table. He felt his heart give a painful squeeze. He wished with everything he had that he could turn off feeling. Caring hurt too much. 

Leoni patted him on the shoulder and made his way to the locker room. “I’m off. I’ll see you on Monday.” 

Dick nodded and waved. He needed to grab a few things before he could leave. He didn’t make it even halfway across the bullpen when it happened. There was a strangled yelp and a hundred shouts. Dick spun oh his heels and moved without thinking, without plan. 

“Wait no!” Officer Pearlson cried.

Dick was running, his hand going for a weapon that wasn’t there. He grasped air where his escrima stick should have been. 

Jacaby, still covered in chains, had grabbed officer Pearlson’s side arm. The man was now pressed to Jacaby’s front with his own weapon pointed at his temple. 

Dick moved quickly forward. Jacaby was looking the other way. If he could only get across the room and disarm him. Dick was feet away. He was almost there, when he turned. 

“Detective Rohrbach!” Jacaby shouted as he spun looking for her. 

Dick froze, sliding slightly on the tile floor. Jacaby pushed the gun harder against Pearlson’s head. 

Dick stood still watching Jacaby carefully. His eyes were fixed on Dick and he was smirking. Dick wondered how he’d never noticed how yellow the man’s teeth were. 

“I’m here.” A voice called somewhere behind Dick. Detective Rohrbach moved forward slowly from where she stood by the vending machines. “Right here. How about you let him go and we talk?” 

“Oh I’m past talking, darling.” His grin was worse then the Joker’s, Dick decided. “I’ll just have one thing I want you to know.” He pulled back the hammer.

Dick moved without thought. He started forward, as the hammer dropped. The shot echoed in the precinct. 

Officer Pearlson toppled to the ground before Dick could reach him. Dick’s eyes followed the figure as he fell. A shout of anger built on his lips, but died in his mouth as he looked up again. 

The barrel of the gun was still smoking. Gunpowder tickled Dick’s nose, and the heat of the shot radiated off of it in waves. The gun was inches from Dick’s face. Dick glared back at it. He stood looking past the barrel straight into the man’s eyes. They were devoid of all emotion. Dick wondered how he could kill and not feel it at all. 

The gun clicked again. Officers in every direction were pointing their sidearms at Jacaby. There was shouting and screams everywhere, but Dick couldn’t hear that. He couldn’t hear the chaos that raged around them. All he could hear was Jacaby’s words, as if they were the only two in the room. 

“I do this for fun.” 

“Put it down.” Dick said slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the man. A voice that sounded like Bruce whispered in his mind:  _ Watch the eyes. That’s how you know when to move. _

“I’m going to die either way.” Jacaby was looking at him oddly, as if he were a curiosity rather than a potential victim. “Why not take a few with me?”

“You want to take someone with you?” Dick growled at him. Dick felt something wet on his boot. Out of the corner of his eye he could see blood pooling from Pearlson. “How about some of the men who hired you? The ones that helped you and then betrayed you? We just need a name.” 

Jacaby opened his mouth. “That simple huh?”

“Just a name. You can take them out with just a word.” Dick replied. He could feel Detective Rohrbach’s eyes on the back of his head. 

A smile split his face. “Just a name? Here I stand the slayer of lions--” 

A loud bang filled the room. Dick flinched as blood splattered across his face and front. A ringing sound filled his ears as he watched the man in front of him fall, the smile still on his lips. 

He stood in shock, Jacaby lay at his feet. He… Dick looked down at himself and realized what he was covered in and gagged. He stepped back and found hands grabbing him from behind. 

Suddenly as it had come, the ring stopped and a chorus of people shouting engulfed him. Questions came from every direction. People asking him if he was okay flooded his ears. But Dick couldn’t reply. 

His mind didn’t seem to understand what had happened. He was covered in-- 

He forced his eyes up and away from the bodies now the floor. Leoni stood before him, his hand still raised, the gun, smoking slightly. 

Dick watched, his heart pounding wildly as Leoni lowered it slowly.

“Boot?” He asked shakily. 

“You… You shot him?” Dick didn’t know what to do or what to say. 

“He was going to kill you.” Leoni glanced down at the man. “I had no… I had no choice.”

Dick followed his train of sight and found this time he couldn’t hold in his meager breakfast. Someone pushed a trash can under his nose. 

Dick felt soothing hands on his back as he retched.

* * *

Dick stood in the captain’s office in a pair of sweats. He wished he had something more… professional. But he hadn’t brought a spare uniform as he wasn’t meant to be on duty today and hadn’t foreseen  _ this _ . How could he have?

The door opened and Dick spun to face her. The captain held two steaming cups of tea. Her heels clicked on the linoleum floor as she rounded her desk and set the two cups down. “Officer Grayson, please take a seat.” 

Dick sank down without a word and nodded his thanks as she slid a cup towards him.

“I’m not going to keep you long.” she sank down and put her cup to her lips, taking a small sip. “You’ve had a day. We all have.” 

Dick nodded but said nothing. He still felt numb. 

“Pearlson...” her voice wavered. “He would have really appreciated you trying to save him. I know that’s not… It’s never going to feel like enough. But I knew him for a long time and he wouldn’t-- you did everything to get there. You were faster than all of us.” 

“I wish I’d been faster, ma’am.” Dick looked down at the dark brown liquid in his cup. 

“I’m just thankful Leoni didn’t hesitate. Losing one officer...” She set her cup down “I just-- I still want you to take some time. Having that happen-- It’s enough to rattle anyone. I want you to take some time off, get rest and see a therapist or something.”

“I’m okay.” Dick sighed. “I’ve seen worse.”

“You know, I can make it an order.” She looked at him with an odd expression. 

“I’m good, I promise. I’ll. Er… make a call if you really want me to.” 

She sighed. “It’s not an order, but a  _ recommendation  _ at this point. You didn’t have to pull the trigger so I can’t make you unless you--”

“Go postal. Yeah.” Dick knew the regulations. “How long will Leoni be out?”

“A week, most likely. It was a clean shoot. Plenty of witnesses and cameras, so that will speed up the IA investigation. I’ll have you on the desk for a bit, but you shouldn’t have more than a handful of shifts without your TO.”

Dick nodded feeling slightly numb. He was ready to go home and sleep. He needed another shower and then he would pass out for a year-- if he could. 

“Get out of here, Grayson.” She said after a moment looking him over. 

Dick almost made it out of the building when he was stopped by Detective Rohrbach. “Grayson?” 

Dick turned, feeling tense. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to-- to apologies. I should have--”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dick shrugged and turned back towards the door. He wanted to leave. The station felt stifling and even city air was better than this. 

“I still… are you okay?”

Dick wondered if she were really concerned or worried he would file a complaint. He couldn’t figure out  _ what  _ he would file it for, but Bludhaven was full of backstabbers. 

“No, but I will be after a hundred showers and some sleep. Thanks for asking. I just kind of want to get home if you don’t--” 

His phone rang, the sound cutting through the air like a knife. 

She smiled and nodded. “Sorry to hold you up. I hope you get some good rest. You-- you were very impressive, Officer.” 

Dick waved and turned, pulling his phone from his pocket. Jason was written across the screen along with an awful selfie of the two of them. Dick smiled despite his ill mood. “Hey, Littlewing. What’s up?”

“Dick! Thank goodness you answered. Bruce is making me go to stay at Mr. Fox’s for the night and I--”

“What?” Dick asked, completely thrown for a loop. 

“He has to go out of town and won’t be back until about two in the morning or something and  _ apparently  _ I can’t be on my own for that long.”

Dick snorted, he could almost hear Jason rolling his eyes. 

“And you don’t want to go to Lucius’ house for the night?” Dick slid into his beat up car and leaned back into the seat. 

“I don’t mind staying at Mr. Fox’s house. But I’m not an infant, I can stay at home by myself.” Jason’s voice cracked indignantly. 

Dick closed his eyes and let Jason’s voice wash over him. It was soothing. Jason was so young. Dick wished for a time when  _ his  _ worries were so simple and innocent. It was comforting to listen to him complain about something so tame as having to spend the night at someone's house. 

Dick wasn’t naïve enough to think Jason didn’t have hardships that were… less childlike. But he still was innocent in a way Dick missed. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” Dick asked slowly. He wasn’t sure he was ready to brave Gotham. He was tired. He was-- Dick peeled his eyes open when Jason didn’t answer.

“Jay?”

“I… Nothing. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called.” Jason said quietly. 

Dick bit the inside of his lip to stop a curse from falling out his mouth. “Jason I… That sounded wrong. I didn’t mean it in a sarcastic way. I meant what do you want to do? As in do you want to come here or--”

“I was wondering if you could come over.” Jason said in a rush. 

Dick licked his lips. Gotham both seemed like an incredible idea and a horrible one. To be free of Bludhaven and back in a place that was familiar and had once held such wonder… Dick hated how much he wanted it. 

“Okay. I.. I’ll tell B, I have a case that I want to follow up on. That should be enough.” Dick said slowly. 

“Do you want me to just say you're coming over, that might be easier?” Jason asked, his voice sounded slightly hopeful. 

Dick turned the key in his car. “No. Just-- I’ll message the cave and say I’m in town.”

“But he might still send me to Mr. Fox’s then.” Jason whined. 

“Jay, I don’t know. I just. I just can’t, okay?” Dick leaned forward. “I don’t want to deal with Bruce right now.” 

“How is calling Batman any different? You don’t even need to talk to him if I ask him if you can--”

“Trust me. Batman and Bruce aren’t the same thing.” Dick snapped. Dick had years of partnership with Batman that couldn’t ever be erased. Bruce however, he had never been what Dick had thought. He hadn’t been wanted by the man at all. 

Jason was silent for a long time. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s fine. Just let me call him?” Dick asked as he pulled out of the parking lot into the road. 

“Yeah. sure.”

Dick sighed as Jason hung up. He would have to make it up to him tonight. Maybe they could play games or train surf. 

Dick drove home slightly too fast, and took a forty five minute shower. The water turned cold long before he was ready to get out. He used half his shower gel, before he felt even slightly clean. 

Dick dressed slowly and dragged his feet back to the car. He made his way through Bludhaven using a wild pattern of turning and twists. Once he was certain he’d have shaken any tail, he pulled into a discrete parking spot that led to the Nest. 

It was cold inside. Dick could see his breath. He sighed and made his way over to his computer firing it up. 

He had the Batcomputer’s audio line half dialed when he chickened out. He felt drained as it was. He didn't want to talk to Bruce or Batman. Dick closed his eyes and sank into his rickety chair. 

He pulled out his phone and typed in a number he had known since he was eight. 

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. How may I be of service?” Alfred’s voice was smooth but rushed. Dick opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to speak. 

“Hello?” Alfred repeated.

“Hey Alfred.” Dick felt as if he had cotton in his mouth. It felt dry and painful. “I… Er. I have some--” Dick cleared his throat. “I have a lead that looks like it has a connection with a warehouse in Gotham I was wanting to… I just wanted to give a heads up that I’ll be in the area.” 

The line was silent for a long moment. Dick wondered if Alfred had hung up on him. 

“I’m sorry to say Master Bruce and I will be out of town this evening.” Alfred said evenly. “I would have enjoyed seeing you.” 

Dick swallowed. “Oh, Jason have a game out of town?” 

Dick wondered if Alfred would let the ruse stand. He knew, Alfred knew that Dick and Jason hung out. They wouldn’t have been able to keep it from Bruce without Alfred knowing, but Dick and Alfred never spoke about it. He didn’t know if he and Jason did either. 

“No. I-- would it be alright if Robin were to help you tonight. I’m sure he would enjoy that much more than going to stay with Mr. Fox tonight. That is of course if you don’t mind?”

Dick felt tension leave his shoulders. “Yeah that’s fine. I’ll meet him at Smiths.” 

Alfred hummed. “What time?” 

Dick blanched. He hadn’t asked Jason what time Bruce and Alfred were leaving. “I have a long stake out. When can you spare him?” 

“Oh we’ll have to be out by seven.” Alfred replied smoothly. 

“Great. Send him my way then.” Dick glanced at the clock, That gave him three and a half hours to get to Gotham. 

Alfred hummed and said his farewells but Dick hardly noticed. He dragged himself to his cot and set a timer on his phone to wake him in an hour and a half. He needed all the rest he could get. He had had a long day and it would likely be a long night. 

**[CONTINUE READING HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468597/chapters/61778161) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap for those who want to skip:
> 
> They interview Jacaby, he refuses to tell who has been helping him. On the way out of the Precinct Jacaby grabs an officers gun, shoots the officer, and almost tells Dick something (while holding a gun to Dick's head). Jacaby is shot by Leoni to save Dick. Dick gets a call from Jason and goes to Gotham to hang out. 
> 
> NOTE FOR EVERYONE: I am going to pull a DC and have a arch outside of the fic, but it is going to be talked about in the next couple of chapters... So Turbulent Spaces is the next read for you! Please if you haven't read that go to that before the next two chapters.


	17. Duplicity's Sting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, If you haven't read Turbulent Spaces Please read that first. The link is at the bottom of the last chapter or you can click on next work button. Think of it as three bonus chapters for this. Anyway if you have read it, good luck. 
> 
> Wellllll.... here we go.

It was all outlined by the fifth columnist.

The truth lay in the black in white. 

But I never learned how to read you. 

* * *

Dick didn’t answer the phone the next day when Jason had called him. He didn’t text him back for nearly a week. He missed their Thursday get togethers several weeks in a row and nearly,  _ nearly  _ didn’t call him on his birthday. 

Dick while spinning out of control knew enough to know that  _ that  _ would have been a step too far. It wasn’t Jason that he was upset with or wanted to punish. It wasn’t fair to ignore him for that long. It wasn’t kind. But Dick still hadn't been able to do it. He hadn’t been able to be the bigger person, because Bruce had upended everything he’d thought to be real. Dick went to work and wondered if he were an imposter. He went out as Nightwing and found he wasn’t sure what the point was. 

Dick spent a total of three and a half weeks reeling. He was sloppy in the field as both Nightwing and Officer Grayson. He moved through his shifts in a daze of numbness and disinterest. Because what had the point been? What had it all been for if Bruce didn’t really hate him?

Perhaps hate was a strong word. Dick hadn’t ever really thought Bruce  _ hated  _ him. He had assumed a cold indifference at best and a sort of sick disappointment at worst. Yet here Dick stood just a few hours drive away trying to prove a point that-- that was completely without reason. And somehow Dick couldn’t wrap his head around it. Bruce’s declaration seemed so… impossible.

Wally hadn’t know what to say when Dick showed up at his dorm room sobbing and wanting to punch walls until his fists bleed. Clark hadn’t understood his anger at it all, when Dick had called and wanted to complain about Bruce’s sudden admission. If Bruce wanted him then what was to be angry about after all? 

Well Dick found-- even though it was almost as if his wildest dreams had come true-- it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t satisfying to find out Bruce was sorry. It wasn’t even remotely pleasing. Because that meant whatever they were, was now on Dick, and Dick wasn’t ready to let go of that rage that fueled him. If he set it down, what would he have left? 

Dick leaned his head against the cool window of the cruiser. Leoni, had asked him over and over what was bothering him. He had sent him long nervous glances that Dick had for the most part ignored. He knew that wasn’t fair either. Leoni had had a terrible month himself. He had to take a life. Dick couldn’t imagine the pain that caused him. But Dick still didn’t know how to make himself  _ care _ . He didn’t know how to knock that drive back into his bones. 

They pulled into the precinct garage and Dick blinked. He-- they weren’t off duty for another several hours. Why had they--

“See you in a few.” Leoni leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes. When Dick didn’t move, they blinked open and fixed him with a confused expression. “You going in for your report or…”

Understanding bloomed in his chest and Dick nodded. He was supposed to have a check in with Sergeant Hess today. He was halfway through his time as a rookie at the Bludhaven Police department. He had a test on Tuesday that would help him advance to the next stage of his training. Dick had completely forgotten. Not that he really needed to worry about studying. He had passed much harder tests then the ones the police could devise. 

Dick made his way through the station trying to reign in his all too disquiet mind. The door to Hess’s office was closed. Dick took a steadying breath and knocked. 

“Come in!” Hess called out.

Dick pushed the door open and was surprised to see Detective Rohrbach standing in front of Hess’s desk. 

“Sorry. I can come back if you’r--”

“No. No. We’re done here. Just had a couple small things to wrap up.” Detective Rohrback, nodded and turned to leave. “Just let me know if you think of anything else. The DA is calling it a closed case but…” She trailed off suggestively and Dick found-- for the first time in weeks-- he was curious. 

“Are you talking about the Jacaby case?” Dick glanced between the two.

“Yeah. Nothing big. Just was handing in my report.” Rohrback said, nodding to an open file on Hess’s desk. 

“So… it’s-- that’s it?” Dick asked looking now at the Sargent. 

“Yeah. Not everything ends with the bad guys all caught and in jail. Sometimes the accomplices walk and we never know.” Hess sank into his chair and sighed. “Thank you detective, I'll make sure the Captain gets this.” 

She left without a backward glance and the door clicked shut. Dick crossed the room and took her abandoned chair. 

Hess looked over him and sighed again. “Grayson. You have been the biggest pain in my--” 

Dick smiled. “Sorry sir.”

“I know… Look. You do good work. You always have spotless, mistake free reports. Your TOs have always said you’ve done good--yes even Tom gave you good marks-- but boy do you seem to find trouble. Kid, I’m looking at your record and it looks great. You’ve helped me take down big names, you’ve put duty ahead of your relationship with your TO, but off paper. You’re a mess.”

Dick felt as if water had been dumped over his head. “Sir?”

“Look what happened last month is enough to shake anyone. Seeing someone die isn’t something you forget or get over, but in this job… you have to.” Hess was looking at him intently. 

Dick found he didn’t care to shrink under the man’s gaze and felt his body tense. “I know.”

“On top of it all having to deal with the stalker-- it’s a lot. I get that. But Leoni and I have both agreed you’ve been off since Jacaby. If you can’t shake this… I’m going to recommend you to desk.”

Dick blanched. “Desk? You want me to ride the desk?” 

“ _ No _ . I don’t. But I don’t want you dead either.” Hess leaned forward. “Can you shake it?”

Dick looked at him, and felt something in his gut burn. “Yes. yes, sir.”

“Good. Get out of here.” Hess stood and grabbed a file from the top of his desk as he stood. Dick did a double take. Underneath the file Hess had just picked up was the list of addresses that Dick and Leoni had received from Leoni’s informant. But that wasn’t the same paper.  _ This  _ list was on a record of search warrants served by the department. 

Dick looked at it for a long moment not understanding why it was bothering him. It was just a list, just a document. Then it hit him. It had 17 properties. Leoni and Dick had only looked into 16.

“Grayson?” Hess asked when Dick didn’t move.

“What’s this?” Dick asked, pointing to the list.

“Properties owned or tied to Jacaby.” Hess raised his eyebrow in confusion.

Dick scanned the list and checked off each place as he went. 2451 Kennely lane: an apartment Nightwing had dug through, 25 and Stapleton: an old café that Leoni and he had checked out, Office 27, Building A on lot D of 45th and Lexington. Dick crossed them out mentally as he read. Ironsites Lion Properties hadn’t been on his list. Dick stared at the name for a long time. It felt horribly familiar. 

Dick stared at the words for a long time. It felt as if the answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t reach it. 

Hadn’t the last thing Jacaby said been about lions? Dick wasn’t sure that was it, but he had. 

“Grayson?” Hess snapped. 

Dick pulled his eyes from the list, his mind moving a million miles and hour. “Yeah. Sorry. I just--” He glanced back at it. “Nothing. Thank you, sir.”

Dick walked out of the office feeling uneasy. How had they missed that in their first run at Jacoby. How had Leoni’s information left out that name? Sure he had given them dozens, but that’s just it. He had given them more than just 17 names to look at. It had been Dick and Leoni to narrow it down to the 16. But Dick was sure Ironsites wasn’t one of the ones they had ruled out either. The CI had given them any and everything tied to Jacaby. But not this one. This Ironsites Lion Properties had slipped through the net. 

It didn’t feel right. Dick moved through the station trying to puzzle it out. He had to have made a mistake. He could have missed it when looking at the properties. He could have ruled it out and forgotten about it. The Informant could have missed it. It was likely, even probable. But Dick didn’t  _ know  _ that. 

Dick climbed back into the passenger seat of the shop, frowning. 

“Boot?” Leoni sat up and was looking at him nervously. “You okay?”

“Huh?” Dick started and turned to face his TO. “Yeah. Yeah-- I’m just thinking.”

“The review go okay?” 

“It was fine. I’m not thinking about that.” Dick pulled his phone from his belt and googled Ironsites Lion Properties. The office was on the far west side of Avalon Heights. Leoni leaned over to look at his screen. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Leoni asked curiously. 

“Just something that was on the sergeant's desk.” Dick locked his screen and slid the phone back into his belt. He was overthinking it. Jacaby was dead. It was over, case closed. 

“Okay. If you don’t want to share with the class.” Leoni held his hands up and leaned away from Dick. 

Dick felt guilt bubble in his gut. He had been rather cold over the last few weeks. Leoni was going through a lot and he hadn’t been a good partner. 

“I just… I can’t get Jacaby out of my head.” Dick admitted. “It’s just-- I swear he was going to say something.”

Leoni scowled. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait. He had a gun to your head. I-- Dick it was you or him.”

Dick licked his lips, unnerved at the heat in Leoni’s voice. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you think that.”

Leoni ran his hand through his hair. “I know. Sorry I’m just jumpy. It-- it's been a lot.” 

“How about we just do some calls for the rest of the day? Huh?” Dick smiled nervously. 

Leoni nodded and pulled out of the garage slowly. 

The day seemed to drag. Dick found himself biting his nails between calls and bouncing his knee in anticipation. 

When they finally clocked. Dick couldn’t hardly stop himself from running. He rushed past his desk over to Hess’s office. He would just ask him before changing and heading out. 

“Sir?” Dick wrapped on the plexiglass sharply poking his head inside the ajar door.

“What do you need, Grayson?” Hess was sitting at his desk, pen in hand. He had a large stack of reports in front of him. 

“I-- er… I was wondering about something relating to the Jacaby case.”

Hess sighed, pushing the papers away from him a bit. “Yes?”

“That Ironsites Lion Properties… It wasn’t on the list we got from the CI.”

“That’s not a question.” Hess frowned at Dick.

“No, sir. I was wondering what-- How did we know about it?” Dick stepped inside and busied himself with his utility belt. He straightened his radio and tasser. He kept fidgeting nervously, unsure what to do with his hands. 

“It was in the public record of properties he had shares in, I think.” Hess stood and rounded his desk. “Why?”

Dick pressed his lips together as Hess sank down on the desktop and crossed his arms.

“We never looked into it, and… This is going to sound crazy.” Dick huffed and sank into the seat opposite Hess’s desk. 

“Go on.” Hess’s eyebrows were pressed together forming a crease between his eyes. 

“Well, when he died-- right before he was shot. He said something about lions.” Dick looked up at Hess and bit his lip. 

“Do you remember what he said,  _ exactly _ ?” Hess tilted his head. 

“No. It was something about taking down a lion.” Dick shrugged. “Would you mind if…I’m sure it’s nothing. I just-- I keep thinking… I’m sure he was going to give me a name, and what if it has to do with this?” Dick waved his arms toward the desk, where the list was buried under piles of paperwork. 

“Go.” Hess stood up and crossed the room to the door, pulling it open. “Go check it out. It’s probably a stretch, but… It can’t hurt to take a look.”

Dick jumped up feeling reenergized. “Thank you.” 

Dick slipped past the Sergeant and into the bullpen. The walk to the garage was short. The shift change meant he didn’t have anyone bat an eye at him checking out a cruiser. He snatched a set of keys from the equipment desk and was off. It wouldn’t take him long. Dick could be there and back in little more than a few hours. 

Dick drummed the wheel as he wove through traffic. He felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. As if solving this would solve everything. His world had been turned upside down, but maybe he could prove-- not to Bruce maybe, but to himself-- that he wasn’t doing all of this for nothing. That he was somehow not as without purpose as he felt. 

When he reached the address, he felt oddly disappointed. It was an old office building on the edge of the bay. The building neither looked sinister or suspicious. The brownstone wasn’t cleaner or dirty than its neighbors. It wasn’t locked by bolts or boarded up. In fact there wasn’t even a police seal on the door anymore-- though he knew it was still a seized property, until the judge released it anyway. Dick pushed open the heavy oak door and peered inside. The hall was dark and musty, as if the space had been sealed for a long time.

There were papers scattered around the floor and chairs knocked over. Whoever had searched the place hadn’t taken time to put it back together.

He moved through the building methodically. Dick climbed the stairs and started on the top floor. He moved from abandoned office to abandoned office. He checked vents and loose floor boards. He checked the water tanks of toilets, and the tops of the dropped ceilings. He moved to the next floor and did it all again. Then the next. 

He covered the narrow floors quickly and found each equally disappointing. Dick’s steps echoed on the concrete stairs as he finally made his way to the basement. A single light bulb hung in the center of the room. Files and boxes were stacked in the room haphazardly. Dick wondered if the officers searching the warrant had really looked at the contents or just moved them around to make a bigger mess. Dick strode forward and pulled several drawers open and found them empty. He turned and pulled the top off a box, it was also empty. The department must have moved it all. Dick sighed and sank down on a rickety chair by the wall, and looked around morosely. 

He had indeed been grasping at straws. Jacaby’s words meant nothing and it had just been a delusional lead. All the excitement and energy he had felt evaporated. He sat on the chair looking around the room in disappointment for a long time. He should give it up. He should turn in his badge. Maybe apply to the university Wally had told him about. What good was he? He couldn’t even solve a simple case. Dick put his head in his hands. What was he playing at? Bruce didn’t want him, didn’t trust him and then did. He was a vigilante and cop to prove Bruce wrong… but now he didn’t have that, what was the point. He was doing more damage than good. Or at least it felt that way.

He looked at his scarred hands and wondered if Robin had ever been more than a pipe dream. And maybe, just maybe Nightwing was just him trying to hold on to that dream. It felt like falling, giving up. He was only 19 and he was so tired. Maybe it was the end of the line for him. Wally had gotten out at 17. He had only been active for three years, Dick had been doing this for ten. 

Dick took a deep breath and moved to stand, but froze. 

He had spent years looking at crime scenes with Batman, years navigating secret hideouts and designing secret space stations and bunkers. Dick recognized a fake wall when he saw one. This one was good, great even. Had it not been for a crescent moon of dust on the floor, he wouldn’t have noticed it without inspecting the drywall for seems. 

But it was there. Dick scurried over to it. He ran his hands along the wall looking for an opening. He pushed and pulled, but it didn’t open. 

Dick grinned. So it wouldn’t be easy. He was here as Officer Grayson, which would mean he didn’t need to leave the room without any evidence of his being there. He didn’t need to be careful not to damage the wall. And the case wasn’t closed until the report was stamped by the judge. And he knew for a fact that it was still on Hess’s desk. This was still under BPD control. He could  _ tear  _ through the wall and no one would bat an eye. Dick looked around, realized all he had was his truncheon and the wooden chair to use. Dick ran up the steps. His heart pitered in excitement against his ribs. This was it.  _ This was it _ . This was the break he needed, in more ways than one. Jacaby might be gone but he could still find out who had helped him. He could still finish. 

Dick popped the trunk and snatched up his fire bag. The halligan inside would be more than enough to knock out the wall. 

Dick thundered back through the house. He skidded to a stop in front of the hidden door, his breath coming in quick bursts. It was like being nine all over again. It was the same feeling as cracking his first ever case. But this felt all the more important. The magnitude of what it would mean to Dick was so much greater. He dropped the bag and ripped it open. He rummaged blindly inside until his hand wrapped around the halligan. Dick grinned as he raised it. 

Dick could feel sweet pouring down his face and back, by the time he made it all the way through the wall. It was nearly a foot thick. He dropped the bar and scrambled to grab his flashlight, clipped to his hip. 

Dick poked his head through the hole he had made and clicked the light on. Dick felt his heart skip. Inside were… were stacks of bags, boxes and odd shapes covered in cloth. HE picked the halligan back up and worked to make the hole bigger. After what felt like hours, Dick wiggled his way through the gap into the room. Dick looked around in wonder. 

He pulled a pair of gloves out and cracked open one of the boxes with the least amount of dust on it. 

Dick blinked. It was… No. it couldn’t be. He reached for a bag inside. An evidence bag. Dick felt his jaw drop. Inside was a butcher's knife with a rugged wooden handle. It was the murder weapon from the Marco case. The one that had been stolen all those months ago. The one that’s lost had set Jacaby free in the first place. Dick looked around wondering what else could be here. It was a  _ treasure  _ trove. 

Dick unclipped his radio from his belt and moved to call the station. Only static came through. Dick snorted. So whoever had made this room, made it so that radio signals couldn't get out. He stepped back and felt a crunch under his boot. Dick froze and slowly lifted his foot, hoping he hadn’t just stepped on a piece of evidence. 

Beneath his feet lay a half crushed almond. Dick frowned. 

“Only you, Boot.” A horribly familiar voice said coldly. 

Dick spun, feeling his heart jump into his throat. His hand moved for an escrima stick before he realized it wasn’t there. Leoni stood looking at the scene, his arm raised. Dick saw what Leoni was holding but it didn’t seem to click in his mind that it was real. 

“Leoni?” Dick hated how small his voice sounded.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone.” He looked so angry. His face was twisted and warped. He almost looked like Harvey in the half light.

Dick didn’t understand. Why? Why was he… He looked down at the almond on the floor. The horrible truth dawned on him. It was so obvious, but his brain didn’t seem to want to understand. “You?”

Dick choked on the word. How many people would he lose like this? How many would turn out to be the opposite of what he had thought and hoped. It wasn’t until that moment that Dick realized just how much he had come to care for Leoni. 

“You really, had to keep digging. I told you over and  _ over  _ again that you should stop. I thought the  _ letter  _ would get you off the case.” He growled angrily. All the kindness Dick had grown accustomed too was gone from his eyes. Dick wondered if he had only ever imagined it. Imagined a look of approval when he had been so desperate for it, so desperate for someone to take the place of Bruce. 

“But you… you are worse than a dog with a bone.” Leoni’s eyes flashed dangerously. 

“It was you? The whole… You stole the evidence from the courthouse.” Dick wasn’t sure what hurt more, the nodded confirmation or the way it all clicked into place. Leoni had been there, he had been out of sigh the whole attack. Dick hadn’t even thought to question that Leoni hadn’t been where he said he was. He should have-- Then. Dick could have kicked himself. Leoni had been so insistent Dick go home. He hadn’t even gone to the car after the shooting. Leoni could have moved the evidence and Dick would have never seen a thing. 

The horror Dick felt had little to do with his blunder within the investigation, and was all to do with the fact that his friend, mentor and trusted confidant had been betraying him from day one. 

Then the meaning of what Leoni said hit him in full. “ Wait--Tom didn’t-- He was warning me about you.  _ You  _ were following me,  _ you  _ sent that letter to my house.” Dick’s head was spinning. Leoni had-- He wanted to be sick. “How? You were in the pictures.”

Leoni sighed. “You would have been suspicious if I wasn’t so I had a friend help me. Tad might be an unsavory man, but he does a good job.” 

Tad. That name sounded familiar, but Dick didn’t have time to focus on it. There were too many thoughts swirling in his head. Leoni had stolen, had stocked him, made him think it was all Tom. He had-- he was the reason this address hadn’t been on the list too.

“You… you were alone with the list the CI gave us. You… you took off this property so we wouldn’t see it. Ironsites… I” Dick closed his eyes for a moment. “Your house. It was on that picture of your--”

“Ahhh, I wondered if you would remember that photo.” Leoni laughed, but it held no humor. “My father bought this place after he got out of the army. Taking up his old name was stupid, but… He was my father.” Leoni shrugged as if it explained everything.

“He was a sniper?” Dick knew the answer before Leoni nodded. “And Leoni means--”

“Lion. Yeah.”

“So you… you’ve become a gun for hire? A twisted way to connect to your old man?”

Leoni looked at him coldly. It was all the confirmation Dick needed. He felt dizzy. How had he trusted this man? How had he fallen for it?

“You really are the dumbest rookie I’ve ever met.” Leoni sighed. The gun still leveled at Dick’s chest. “I’ve spent years under the radar, because no one is as self sacrificing as you are. Maybe I held back too much. I won’t make that mistake again. I got too fond of you.” He sighed. “That’s on me. I knew better. Partners like you always end up this way.”

Dick’s mouth felt dry. “Your old partner?”

“Yeah. He figured it out too.”

“But why?” Dick couldn’t understand how Leoni could have gotten mixed up in it all.

“Why?  _ Why _ ? Because you can’t stay clean here, kid. It’s inevitable.” Leoni swept wide with his gun in exasperation, his voice growing louder by the minute. 

“We can get you out of it. Whoever is making you do this, we can--”

“Are you that dumb?” Leoni shouted, making Dick flinch. “Get me out of this. Dick, I’m so deep-- There is  _ nothing-- _ ” Leoni huffed, enraged the idea. “This is all there is. You do the job he tells you, you live. That’s it. That’s all that’s left for me. You think I can leave after twelve years? Desm--” Leoni shook his head. “No.  _ This  _ is all I have.”

Dick wondered-- hoped-- that perhaps he had been hit by fear toxin. But there was no tell-tale sour taste in his mouth. This was real. His TO, his friend, his-- Leoni was standing there pointing a gun at his chest, and Dick couldn’t breath. It was like he was glued to the floor. His body felt weightless and disconnected from his mind and his heart was shattered

“You have two choices kid. Go home. And live your life. This never happened.”

“And the other?” 

Leoni tilted his gun. Dick swallowed and shifted his weight to move. He would just have to apprehend him. “I can’t pretend, Aaron. You know me better tha--”

Dick felt the bullet before he heard the shot. He staggered slightly in shock. Dick looked down at his chest and watched the red slowly creep onto the white. 

“Oh.”

Another bang rang in Dick’s ears and he wondered for a moment if the shot was still echoing, but a second bloom formed on the once crisp and white shirt. 

Dick didn’t remember falling. He didn’t remember Leoni coming closer. He didn’t remember Leoni pulling  _ his  _ gun from his belt, his tasser and radio. But somehow Dick found himself on the ground. Weaponless. 

He lay on his back staring up at Leoni. The man cast a long shadow on the ground, making his face half obscured, half coated in the dark. Dick’s hands shook as he moved them to his chest in confusion. He-- He hadn’t thought Leoni would-- He hadn’t expected it. 

Even after figuring it all out, he hadn’t really believed it, not fully. 

Dick lifted a hand away from the injuries on his chest. It came away red. His head felt foggy as if he had been drugged, he felt sick and dizzy. His body was shutting down, a cold voice supplied at the back of his mind. It was shock keeping him awake. Dick swallowed and gagged on the taste in his mouth.

“I  _ am  _ sorry.” Leoni was coming in and out of focus. “I-- I didn’t want to do this.”

Dick opened his mouth to respond but found he couldn’t say anything. Something hot was coating his tongue. Leoni gave him a long pitying look, before he moved over to the boxes that Dick had been looking through earlier. 

“Would you have known it was me?” He asked suddenly, from where he stood next to the boxes. He didn’t wait for Dick to answer… It was just as well. Dick didn’t think he could string two words together if he had a gun to his head. “No. No, I've always been careful.”

He shook his head and bent to pick up a small box at the back of the room. Dick twisted so that he could keep an eye on Leoni as he moved around. He winced as the movement jarred his wounds. 

“I’m really sorry, Grayson. You were-- I’ll tell your brother you were a good cop.” Leoni stepped out into the outer room and the light was suddenly gone. 

Dick lay on the ground gasping. He tried to shout after Leoni, to tell him to stay away from Jason, to tell him he could go to hell. Only a slight gurgling sound came out. His body felt both on fire and horribly cold all at once. He looked down at the two bullet holes in his chest and felt fear creep into his mind. 

Dick pushed himself up so that he was propped on one of his elbows. He needed to get  _ help,  _ to get out of here. Where  _ was  _ here? Dick frowned. Why was he-- How had he… He looked around and thought he saw a shadow moving out of the corner of his eye. But when he looked again nothing was there. He pulled himself towards the hole in the wall. He wondered how it got there. Why had he come in here at all? Everything was foggy and jumbled. He needed to call Batman. No. that-- that wasn’t right.  _ Was it? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to scream at me. It's okay. I know what I did.


	18. Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this took longer then I wanted due to real life stuff. Second of all, thank you, Marzue, for looking this over and doing your magic. My brain is in the bin (as my friend likes to say), so this is not perhaps what I hoped and dreamed, but I hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> Also for those of you wondering yes I do write the epigraphs (The poems at the start of each chapter).
> 
> Warnings for this include: BLOOD, INJURY, and GSW STUFF. 
> 
> As always I love to hear from you, and I'm sorry for it being a bit late, as I said sometimes life happens and it's been a Week™

These apparitions are not holy.

This wandering has left me filled with pain.

You walked away and left me lowly.

And now I’m left with a crimson stain,

as I’m still trying to fathom which of you is the phantom.

Walking away over and over,

trading my trust as wares in Dadanim 

booths, perhaps it’s not I who is lost and a rover.

\--Maybe this time it’s not the son who is the prodigal

* * *

Dick’s arms gave out under his weight and his head fell back hard onto the concrete. White spots clouded his vision as his head struck the ground. He wondered if this was what being pulled apart felt like. He wasn’t sure what hurt worse, the betrayal or the bullets. He lay on the ground staring unseeingly at the ceiling for a long moment. His body was spinning, or it _felt_ like it was, but Dick knew he lay still. He could hear his heart thumping hard against his chest, trying to keep him alive. He wondered how many more beats it could give. It seemed less like a sign of life, than a ticking clock counting down to his last breath. 

Leoni. It seemed impossible. But… Dick could remember it in flashes. He could still see the gun, still smell the gunpowder. The worst part was, no one would ever know. Dick lifted a hand and watched it come away from his chest sticky and red. He had to tell them even if he didn’t make it. Hess needed to know about Leoni, and Bruce-- if only to protect Jason. He turned his head so that he was looking to his right, and slowly lowered his arm to the floor. He should keep pressure-- a voice shouted in the back of his mind-- but Dick had to make sure they knew. L. He traced the lines, his hands smudging the letter terribly. E. The lines weren’t straight. O. it looked something out of a horror movie. N. his arm was shaking so bad it looked almost like an M. I. The final line felt like a death sentence.

He looked at the letters until the room faded into nothingness. 

Dick swam in and out of consciousness. In and out of dreams.

After several rough starts Dick finally forced his eyes to remain open. He knew it was important. He just didn’t know _why_. 

Dick lay dazed on the ground trying to arrange his thoughts into an order that made sense. It felt like he’d had his brain taken out and scrambled. 

He was on the floor. 

He was bleeding. 

But what floor and why seemed a mystery. 

Dick pushed himself up slightly and looked around. He was-- He needed to get out. That was the only thought that made sense to him. He needed to get help. He needed to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down. 

Dick pushed with one hand as hard as he could on his chest and let out a gasp of air. He groaned and reached up to his ear. He needed to call-- He blinked. He had no comm system in his ear. How would he call Batman? He needed to think. He had to figure this out. Like it was a dumb test, some pop quiz Bruce used to give him. 

“Come on, Robin. _Think_ .” He hissed in pain. He just had to hold on. He just had to wait for Bruce to come and get him. Oh how he was ready to go home, to let Alfred pamper him, and Bruce worriedly fuss. Dick was tired. It _hurt_. All Dick had to do was figure out how to call. “Come on Rob--” 

Dick blinked. He felt cold all of a sudden, and it had nothing to do with the blood leaking out from under his fingers. No. He-- that wasn’t right. Bruce wasn’t-- Dick closed his eyes. 

He was _alone_. He was completely alone. No Batman was coming. There was no partner in the wings, ready to save him. He wasn’t Robin. He wasn’t Bruce’s son and even on death's bed, Batman wouldn’t come. _Bruce_ wouldn’t. 

A small voice at the back of his mind argued. _He apologized, said he didn’t mean it._ But Dick couldn’t believe it. People _said_ things every day. No, Bruce wasn’t a man of words. What he said meant very little, it meant _nothing_. Nightwing was on his own. He had no help coming, no back up. 

He had to save himself. Dick forced his eyes open. He didn’t remember closing them. He slowly rolled over so that he was on his stomach. Dick screamed. It was a horrible sound, even to his own ears. He lay gasping, with his check pressed to the cool concrete floor. Tears fell from his eyes, without permission, and ran down his nose until they dripped on the floor itself. Slowly the pain dulled, and Dick could think again.

He wondered for a moment if that had been a bad idea. Would he bleed out faster like this? Well one thing was for certain, he knew he couldn’t crawl out laying on his back a _nd_ doing nothing would give him a 100% chance of death. This was his only option. 

He shook as he moved his arms. He extended his arms as far as he could towards the exit, that misshapen hole in the wall. His fingers trembled and were cold but they moved. He pressed his palms as hard as he could into the ground, pushed down and _pulled_. A scream tore from his lips and Dick saw nothing but black. He did it again, and again, until he had gone a few yards. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He let his forehead fall to the ground for a moment. He looked back at the hole, it was still so far away and he was moving far too slow. 

His chest was on fire, and his throat was raw from screaming. He wondered if anyone could hear him. It was pain like he had never known it. Sure he had been shot before, he had been hurt before too, but this was-- Dick wondered if Bruce’s parents had died right away from the bullet that killed them. He’d never had the guts to ask. Now he wished he had. He hated to imagine Bruce at just ten years old watching his mother trying to crawl toward him like this. He hoped they-- no one ever felt this pain. 

In that moment more than anything Dick wanted to give up. He wanted it to end, for this hurt that was ripping him apart to stop. It was so hard to move like this. He had only dragged himself a few yards and he was spent. Bruce would be so disappointed in him, he thought bitterly. 

He lifted his arms again, and pulled. 

Dick moved agonizingly slowly. It felt like the hole was getting further rather than closer. Each movement shot blinding pain down his torso and back. His legs felt numb and didn’t seem to want to move. His arms were shaking and his shoulders were burning from effort. Dragging himself was horrible, but it had to be done. He had to get out to… he needed to call-- Dick closed his eyes trying to focus on anything but the pain. 

He was feet away, inches, his fingers brushed the bottom of the hole. Dick felt a surge of relief. He was almost there. He just had to get out, and to the other side. Then he would be home free. 

He lifted his chin from the floor and tried to focus on the obstacle before him. It was nearly a foot and a half off the ground. He would have to push himself up. There was no way he could stand, but maybe he could sit and sort of flop through to the other side. 

Dick rolled onto his back again and lay there for a moment, just trying to catch his breath. His mind was foggy and his body was beginning to feel less cold. Dick knew that was bad. He knew his time was limited. He couldn’t _afford_ to lay here, but he was just so tired. 

What would Jason say, he wondered, if he saw him here. Would Robin look at him in disgust? Would the boy who had taken his name see him for what he really was… just a fake, a pretender to the throne that was Batman’s legacy. What would Bruce think? That thought was almost worse. Here was the proof that Batman had been right all along. It wasn’t _Robin_ , Bruce had fired but _Dick_ , after all. Dick was the replaceable one. The stand in, the fake. Dick closed his eyes. 

It would be so easy to lay there and just let the blood loss loll him to sleep, let the bullets finish him. It would be easier, simpler. No more trying, no more fighting. No more feeling alone and not enough. 

Dick’s eyes shot open. No. No. He didn’t want that. He wanted to feel the wind and the way the night seemed to sing as he swung between buildings, he wanted to protect his friends and strangers. He wanted to see families reunited and saved. He wanted to help. He-- that’s all he had ever wanted. To fly and help. 

He couldn’t give up. How would he face his mother if he did? His father? Dick slowly and painfully pushed his forearms into the ground, lifting his torso ever so slowly. It was herculean, but Dick did it. He gasped and panted, and screamed wordlessly, but he moved. His head spun as he pushed himself into a seated position. It was like his head had been filled with helium and his body with lead. 

He took a long moment-- too long of one-- to catch his breath. He then reached back to the hole with his left hand, still holding himself up with his right. He hooked his left elbow over the lip of the hole so that his forearm was on the other side, and then did the same with his right. He pulled back so that he slid backwards toward the hole, using only his forearms to move. Dick saw white. 

His back was now pressed to the hole itself. _Okay. Okay_ , he thought. _Almost there_ . He just needed to pull himself up and then _fall_. Dick was good at falling. All Graysons were. 

Dick blinked back the white fog, threatening every moment to take away the world of color forever. For the first time he realized just how much blood was on the floor. His heart was pounding but felt… wrong. It felt far away. His legs were beyond numb. He couldn’t feel them at all anymore. He was almost thankful for the fact his arms were shaking with pain and his chest and abdomen were screaming. 

Pain meant alive. Pain meant he still had a chance. Dick felt something in his throat gurgle, and he instinctively coughed. He wished he hadn’t. Blood dribbled down his chin and he found he had no energy to wipe it away. 

Deciding he had wasted far too much time sitting there, Dick lifted his hands so that they were palm down on the bottom threshold of the hole. He closed his eyes and pushed. He pushed his dead weight up and back. He pushed even as his arms shook and quivered. He pushed as something moved in his stomach and made blood leak faster from his wound. He pushed himself up so that his butt, now sat on the bottom lip of the hole. 

Then Dick let himself go. 

He let himself fall.

His back struck the ground before his head did, and he had only a moment to realize how poor a plan this had been. His head smacked the ground before he could cry out, and he last glimpsed the dusty drop ceiling before the world went black. 

Dick blinked groggily and found he felt colder than he had ever felt in his life. He felt colder than that time he had fallen in the pond while ice skating with Bruce, colder than when he had been locked in a freezer as Robin, and colder than that time he had run away in a rainstorm. Dick turned his head slowly trying to understand where he was. 

The room was dusty and filled with file cabinets, on the far end were stairs. He was laying with his feet propped in a hole in the wall, but he couldn’t feel them. He couldn’t feel much of anything. There was only cold. 

“Grayson!” A voice called. 

Dick blinked. He _knew_ that name, but couldn’t place it. He should say something, maybe they could tell him what had happened, why he was so cold. 

“Grayson!” the voice sounded farther away. 

Dick didn’t like that. He wanted to be found, but he couldn’t figure out why. He lifted his head and found his neck didn’t support the weight, but he had seen enough. His shirt was saturated with red. It had been… white. He-- his shirt was white. Dick wondered if his uncle had felt like this when he lay broken on the ground after the fall, unable to move but unable to die either.

Maybe that was it. Maybe Dick had finally fallen. 

“Grayson!”

Oh. Dick realized _he_ was Grayson. A Flying Grayson. He opened his mouth to call back, but only a slosh of drool and blood came out. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew he needed to tell the man shouting for him something. There was something important that needed to be said. Dick rolled and winced as his knees fell from the hole and smashed into the hard tile floor. Perhaps he could feel them after all. Dick inched his way towards the stairs. 

_I’m here_ , he wanted to shout. 

He was a yard from the stairs, feet, inches. Dick lifted his arms to grab them to pull himself up. He was doing it, he was moving, slowly. He pulled and lifted himself. 

His arms gave out under his weight. This fall was somehow the worst he had even had, despite it being mear inches. Worse than the time he tripped off a roof, worse than when he fell off the banister, worse than any fall he had ever had, because this time he knew he couldn’t get back up.

Dick’s chin collided painfully with the corner of a step and his mouth filled with blood as he bit his tongue. A sob broke from his chest, as he lay half draped on the bottom of the steps, half on the tile floor. 

Dick tried to shout but only a warm liquid built up on the back of his tongue. He was going to die here, he realized. He was going to die here and it was all going to be for nothing. He wondered what Bruce would think? Would he be sad? He seemed sad before: when Dick told him he wouldn’t forgive him. He’d said he wanted Dick. Or maybe Dick had dreamt that up. It seemed so far away somehow. 

He couldn’t go anymore. He was too tired. He was at the end of the rope. A fumblist without a place to put his foot. 

The game was up. There was nowhere to go. Nothing left to do. He had no phone, no communicator, nothing to stop the bleeding. This was it. He had eleven more years than he rightfully should have. 

Dick Grayson’s survival was always a fluke, and it turned out he could only outrun death for so long. He wondered if his mom would be happy or mad to see him. He wondered if his father would be proud of all he had done. The room didn’t seem so cold anymore. It didn’t seem to be as painful and lonely either. 

“Grayso-- _no_.” the voice was back. “Oh G--”

Dick couldn’t lift his head. He was too tired. 

“He’s here!” footsteps pounded on the stairs, rattling them and Dick with each thundering step. 

Dick blinked as the dark figure dropped next to him. It’s hands running over his body and it’s voice shouting something, but Dick couldn’t hear anymore. Dick couldn’t focus anymore. The world was a blur of greys and blacks. A dark figure was leaning over him. He couldn’t feel the hands pushing on his chest or the pain anymore. He couldn’t feel anything at all. 

Dick smiled. Bruce. That’s who he’d been waiting for. That was the name.

“Bruce?” Dick slurred over the word. He didn’t think anyone would have been able to understand him, but it didn’t matter. Batman had come anyway. “I knew you’d be here.”

* * *

Hess glanced at the clock nervously, Grayson had been gone for over two hours. But then it took nearly thirty minutes to cross the city, and that was if traffic was good. Grayson was young and reckless but he was also thorough. He would take his sweet time with the property. So really, Hess wasn’t sure why he felt something amiss about it. Perhaps it was that Grayson’s clock would be getting dangerously close to overtime. But Hess didn’t mind that. Rookies didn’t make as much as qualified cops did, so really the department would even look at his timesheet very hard. 

Hess leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He longed for the days when his responsibility was only for himself and a partner. He had been a sergeant for nearly five years now and Hess was starting to miss the beat. He missed being on the streets and talking to people. He looked out at the bullpen, longing for days long gone. His wife slept better now that he was more often than not at the station. And that _had_ to be worth it. 

Sarah Jones rapped on the glass wall and poked her head inside the door. Hess did his best not to look annoyed. The new secretary was… well she wasn’t all that organized. 

“Yes?” He asked, feeling drained. 

“You have a call on line 4, sir.” She licked her lips, as if she was nervous. 

Hess felt a surge of sympathy. She was rather young, perhaps it wasn’t that she was disorganized but overwhelmed. “Do you know who it is or why they’re calling?”

She shook her head. “No, they just said they needed to talk to the sergeant. That’s it.” 

Hess waved her off and steeled himself for a long call complaining about something. A cruiser had blocked someone in their driveway, a cop hadn’t been polite enough, a crime had made them late to work. Somehow it was always the complaints that Hess cared least about that called. The ones that mattered, the infraction that Hess _did_ want to talk about and take care of, were never called in. He really hated Bludhaven somedays. 

“Hello, this is Sargent Hess from the 72nd precinct. How may I help you today?” He said in his most fake polite voice. 

“You’re missing something aren’t you, sir?” A voice Hess recognized but hadn’t heard in a long time spoke. 

Hess felt his blood run cold, he looked around and felt his hand drop to his hip instinctively. His gun was still there. So what was he missing? “Am I?”

“Relatively tall, young, likes to talk a lot.” the voice answered.

If Hess hadn’t been worried before he was now. “Tom, I swear to --”

“You better hurry, he-- He didn’t look good.”

Hess was standing, before he could think. He was running shouting for a car before the phone hit the desk. He didn’t hear Tom’s reply. 

Hess raced across town, weaving in and out of traffic and letting his sirens clear the way. He made it across town in record time, beating both back up and the ambulance. He only hesitated for a moment at the door. 

“Grayson!” He yelled as he burst through the door. He ran up the stairs to sweep the house from top to bottom. No one answered his repeated shouts. 

Hess knew Tom was dirty and a liar, yet he had sounded sad on the phone. He wondered why he had called. Perhaps he wanted to rub in his face that he couldn’t protect his own men. How could he have let Dick go alone? He _knew_ Tom was out there stalking Dick, sending him threats. 

The top three floors had nothing, no sign of a fight, no sign of Grayson. He cleared the ground floor quickly and found it also untouched. He pulled open the door to the basement and shouted again. Calling out for him, he looked down the dark stairs and felt his breath leave him. 

Sirens blared outside. His back up had arrived, but he feared it was too late. 

“Grays--no.” His heart was in his throat. Dick Grayson lay on the stairs, with a long trail of blood behind him, as if he had dragged himself there. His arms looked almost as if he were reaching for him, as the rest on stairs. Hess swore and ran down the stairs. Praying, hoping that he was alive. 

“He’s here!” He shouted back as he heard the paramedics call out on the floor above them. 

Gingerly he reached and rolled Dick over. His eyes were glassy but tracked his movement. Hess felt hope bloom in his chest. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” 

Hess lied over and over as he pushed down on his officer’s wounds.

“I ‘ew you’d e’re.” Dick’s words were a jumble that Hess couldn’t make sense of. But he knew they would haunt him to his dying day. 

“Stay with me.”

Paramedics pushed him aside and Hess could only watch as they rushed him away. He was left standing alone, his hands dripping in blood. Another officer moved around the corner. “Sir?” 

Hess looked up. This was a crime scene he needed to… He needed to work. He had to work. It was all he could do for Grayson now. 

“Cordon off the scene. Get forensics in here, and find… find his shop.” The words hurt to say, but he did it anyway. Because that was the job. Solve the crime. 

The officer nodded and moved away from the door. 

Hess looked around taking in the mess that lay before him. The blood and the… broken wall. He crept forward his hand on his gun. On the other side of the hole was a hidden room. Hess looked at it in horror. If he had thought the blood trail in the main room was bad it was nothing to this. 

He carefully stepped inside and took in the rows of boxes. What had Grayson found and _why_ had Tom shot him for it? And what on earth did it have to do with Jacaby? Hess tried not to look at the blood but found his eyes drawn to it. He froze as he inspected several boxes with gloved hands. There were… letters on the floor.

His mind didn’t seem to work, for it took far too long to comprehend what they said. 

Leoni. 

Hess reached for his radio. 

“72- Echo to Dispatch. Patch me through to command.”

“72 - echo, Command is attached.”

“Command be advised we have a possible 10-76. Submitting discrete BOLO for Aaron Leoni, wanted for questioning in a 10-13 in Avalon Heights. To be considered armed and dangerous.” Hess paused. He hated this. He hated calling in a wanted officer almost as much as he hated calling in an officer down. His chest was tight and the stench of filling the room wasn’t helping. 

“BOLO received and activated. Please confirm 10-13?” 

Hess dizzily looked around. He could hear officers coming in and taking photos of the other room. A detective looked through the hole and whistled. 

“What’d they do with my corpse?” He asked looking around at the blood.

Hess gritted his teeth, and ignored the detective, hitting his radio signal. “72- Echo to command, please be advised 10-13 is developed --”

Hess found it oddly satisfying when the detective paled. _That’s right_ , he thought, _not so happy to find out an officer left that bloody trail._

“-- and en route to hospital. Contacts required and scene secured.” Hess spoke slowly. 

“Acknowledged and attached. Please hold for 55-13” 

Hess stiffened. He hated calls. He hated _this_ call. His phone chimed in his pocket. He looked around the room while pulling it out. The text had come. He didn’t want to open it. He didn’t want to see the name of whoever’s heart he was going to have to break. He opened the text anyway. Clark Kent (friend). Hess gave the room one last look and walked out. He needed to sit down for this. 

* * *

Dick woke to an annoying beeping sound and the feeling of someone’s hand in his. Dick opened his eyes and felt oddly disjointed. His body was numb and worst of all was the thing on his face. Dick reached with his free hand for it only to have the horrible tell-tale tug of an IV line. 

“Hey, buddy.” 

Dick blinked. He looked around, and tried to find the voice. He felt his heart leap as someone tall with black hair came into focus. His excitement evaporated as he realized it was Clark. Dick lay there for a moment confused. Why would he be sad to see Clark? 

He blinked, and felt something hot burn at the back of his eyes. 

“You really… you really scared me.” Clarks voice shook and wavered as he spoke. But he looked calm. He looked stoic like Superman always did, never windswept. 

Dick turned his head slowly as he took in the room. It wasn’t… he didn’t recognize it. Why was he… it was like a light switch had been flipped. Dick choked and gasped on the tube in his mouth. He had been… _Leoni_ had shot him. 

He had to tell, Hess. He had to tell the captain. He reached up and pulled at the piece in his mouth. He needed to tell them. He had to get it out. 

Clark jumped to his feet in a panic, “Dick stop! Stop!” 

Dick froze but looked at him with eyes wide and pleading. He _needed_ it out.

Clark looked torn, but nodded. “Just let a nurse. Okay?” 

Dick could handle a compromise, but it needed to be now. He wished-- not for the first time-- that Superman could read minds. 

The process was long, and by the end of it Dick was spent. He had only been out of surgery for three hours, according to Clark. Dick sucked on ice chips trying to get his throat under control. 

“Clark, I need you to call the station--” Dick coughed and wheezed, sending waves of pain all through his patchwork of wounds. “Ask for Sergeant Hess. Tell him--”

“Dick,” Clark held up his hands. “I’ve got it. You need to sleep. Please.”

“--Leoni.” 

Clark gave Dick a look that he didn’t understand. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Dick was shaking. He was so tired. 

“Nothing. It’s just… I talked to Hess and-- He said Leoni shot you.” Clark looked down at his hands and pressed his lips together. “I’m really sorry.”

Dick sat stunned. They knew… _how_ ? Then he remembered, he had told them. He wrote the man’s name in his own blood so that they would know if he didn’t make it. But that didn’t explain Clark’s reaction to the name. This was _good_. They knew who did it. They would catch him. 

“I don’t understand.” Dick said after a moment, his eyelids getting heavier. 

“It’s okay. We can talk about it later, just-- just rest.” 

* * *

When Dick next woke he could hear Clark talking to someone else. He lay with his eyes closed and just let the words wash over him. 

“SWATS at his house now, but we’ll have someone posted here until this is all sorted out.”

“I appreciate that. Me or my wife will be here most of the time, but it’s nice to know you’re keeping an eye out.” Clark sounded so tired. Dick wanted to go and ask him what was wrong but his arms were heavy and his legs felt like lead. 

“Dick? You need anything?” 

Dick smiled, but found his mouth hurt to move. The corners were dry and felt spilt and chapped. 

“Chapstick.” Dick said automatically. 

Clark laughed. Dick was asleep again before Clark returned with the balm. 

* * *

There was shouting. Dick reached for a pillow to cover his face, but found it wasn’t there. His hand bumped the bed’s guard rail and his eyes flew open. That was Clark’s voice. 

“No. _You_ put Dick in here. _You_ can wait until he’s better to talk.”

Dick groaned. Clark didn’t yell. Ever. In fact Dick didn’t think-- in all his years knowing the man-- had ever heard him so mad. He wondered _who_ he was yelling at. 

“Absolutely not. He just had surgery, he can give a statement later--” 

Dick’s eyes shot open. The chair Clark had been in before was empty, and the door to his room was cracked open. He could just see Clark’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry but, we really do need it as soon as possible. Right now we’re holding--”

“Clark?” Dick called. His voice sounded horrible and raw. His throat felt even worse.

Superman was back in the room before Dick could close his mouth. “I’m right here, buddy.”

Dick was tired and dizzy and wanted nothing more than to sleep to go home, but this had to be done. Otherwise it had been all for not. “I can talk. Just-- I just want this over with.” 

Clark studied him for a long time before sighing. “Okay. But don’t push yourself. I--I can’t-- Dick I really need you to take it easy.” 

Dick frowned. “Okay.” His voice sounded small to his own ears and he hated it. 

Clark walked out of the room, glanced back and then allowed whoever he had been talking with in. 

Dick blinked. His captain was standing in full uniform in the doorway. He had hardly seen her more than a handful of times in all his time at the BPD. 

“Ma’am.” His voice came out in a rasp. 

“Grayson, it’s good to see you up. You really gave us a scare. Hess was-- It’s good to see you awake.” She walked farther into the room and gave him a small sad smile. “Do you mind if I sit down?” 

Dick shook his head and weakly motioned to the chair. 

“I’m going to keep this short. I know you need to get some rest and I don’t want to keep you up. Can you tell me what happened?”

Dick lay there watching her for a moment. He hadn’t thought about having to say it. He had been desperate to tell them and now that he had the chance the words seemed to escape him. 

“Grayson?” She prompted after a moment. 

“Sorry I-- It’s kinda a lot.” Dick said off handedly. 

“I’m sure it is.” Her voice was soft.

“It was him the whole time.” Dick paused trying to gather his thoughts. It seemed so long ago that he met Aaron. “He was helping Jacaby from the start. He stole the evidence from the courthouse during the attack, and he--” Dick tried hard to remember everything, but his brain was all jumbled and he was tired. “He hid the property-- Ironsites-- took it from the list that his CI gave us. I thought it was odd that it was on Hess’s list and not the one we had looked at so I asked to go there…” 

“Grayson?” 

Dick looked up. 

“You okay?”

Dick blinked and realized his face was wet. He was crying. He didn’t remember starting. 

She turned and reached for his bedside table and grabbed his large water jug. “Here.” 

Dick took small sips as she held the straw for him. It was strange seeing her so gentle. When he shook his head she put it down and settled back in her chair. 

“I got there and I searched the building. I found a secret door. I got inside and found all this evidence. The evidence from the courthouse.” He glanced at her, and she nodded.

“Yes, we found that.”

“Well then Leoni show--” Dick swallowed hard, his eyes burned and his chest hurt, but he had a feeling it had little to do with his injuries. 

“He admitted it was him-- that he stole the stuff, and that he was the one who sent me the letter to stop looking and all the photos were him.” Dick felt hollow. Leoni had followed him, threatened him and then had invited him into his home to help keep him _safe_. How twisted did a person have to be to do that? Dick closed his eyes. 

“He told me I could walk away and pretend it didn’t happen, but when I said--” 

Dick found he couldn’t say it. It hurt too much to think about. This man he had cared so much for-- had trusted. 

He wondered just how many times he would fall for it, how many times would he think a person loved him and then didn’t. He glanced at the door. Maybe he was better off alone. Clark was worried, and Dick hated that. But part of him, a part he didn’t dare let out, for even the briefest of moments, when he first woke had hoped Clark was Bruce. And that had been-- Dick bit his split and already damaged lip. He couldn’t think. It was all mixed up and jumbled. He wanted to leap off a building and let the wind take him. He wanted to fly and flip and jump until his body was tired and his mind was clear, but it wasn’t possible-- wouldn’t be for a long time. 

“Grayson, I know it’s hard and it’s going to be for a long time. But I need you to say it.” 

Dick opened his eyes, the tears running hot and fast down his face now. “Leoni shot me.” The words were both a millstone around his neck and freedom. “He shot me twice and then left.”

She nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

Dick lifted his blanket to wipe his face. 

“We’ll have to do a more detailed one later, but this is enough to charge him. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

Dick laughed. “He’s going to hurt me everyday, captain.”

She frowned but didn’t challenge him. “I’ll let you get some rest. Don’t worry, the department is covering everything, so take a long as you need to recover.” 

She almost was out the door when it occurred to Dick. “Ma’am?”

She turned on her heel and tilted her head. 

“How did-- who found me?”

She smiled. “Tom called Hess.”

“Tom?” Dick blinked. “Tom _Curry_?”

“Yeah, turns out he didn’t like us adding stalking to his charges and was following you to find out who was really threatening you. Ironic really, but he saved you. She smiled. “Not everyone is good or evil. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle.”

Dick nodded but was too lost in thought to respond. 

Dick leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes. Not even a minute later there was a small tap on his door. 

Dick bit back a groan. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to turn his brain off for a bit, not think about this confusing mess he was feeling. 

“Yeah?” He croaked. 

The door swung open and Dick blinked. “Littlewing?”

Jason dashed forward, his eyes wide. He looked Dick up and down nervously as if inspecting for damage. 

“Dick, you look horrible.” 

Dick chuckled. “I got shot, what’s your excuse?”

Jason’s face split into a wide grin and a peal of laughter fell from his lips. Whatever nervousness he had seemed to disappear from him and he ventured further into the room. Jason sank in the chair next to him after a moment’s hesitation. Dick was glad Jason chose the chair rather than try and sit on the bed. He didn’t think he could handle the weight of someone even as small as Jason. 

“How are you doing?” Dick asked, trying to force his voice into a normal tone. It kept breaking and making odd squeaks when he least expected it to. 

“How am I-- How are _you_ doing?”

Dick opened his mouth to answer, but froze when the door opened again. Dick didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about it. It was late, Jason was 14 and Dick lived in another city. He didn’t even know _how_ Jason knew he was here. But the answer to all of it stood in the door. 

Dick felt winded. Bruce was there looking at him with tears in his eyes. They just stared at each other for a moment as if trying to decide if what they saw was real. Dick didn’t until that moment realize just how much he had wanted Bruce to be there, or perhaps it was that he had kept the desire buried for so long, he didn’t quite understand now that it had happened. 

Dick felt his eyes burn, but held the tears back. It was then that he realized Leoni had never been like Bruce. They weren’t the same at all, he had only projected the person he missed more than anything on to the man. 

Dick smiled. “Hiya, B.”

[The story continues in 'The Gratitude Trap'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361003)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next work in this series is linked on the bottom of the fic.


End file.
